


Odds of Survival

by Marzarelo



Series: Surviving in the Zombie Apocalypse [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Bickering, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Character Death, No sex with zombies! I should probably clarify that, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Thoughts of Suicide, Violence, Zombies, college/coffee shop au gone wrong, some sexist and homophobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 108,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzarelo/pseuds/Marzarelo
Summary: Kylo is a 5th-year college senior.  He works two part-time jobs and goes to school full-time, but this schedule is obviously more than he can handle and he's on the verge of dropping out.  He's chronically sleep-deprived, angry, and worried he'll fail and have to crawl back to his parents to ask for help after he cut ties with them several years ago.Hux is a graduate student, working on a double Master's degree and drowning in anxiety and student loan debt.Then, one day while they're at work, all hell breaks loose when the streets are suddenly flooded with the undead.  Now they're stuck with each other, trying to survive together, despite the fact that they have hated one another since the day they met.This AU was inspired bythis inktober/huxloween art from 2016.





	1. In Which Everything Goes to Shit

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this to the Kulyx Twitter Gang. If you want someone to blame, it's them.
> 
> I apologize for everything in advance.

Kylo checked the time on his phone again.  He had just enough time to stop into the shop to check the new schedule.  Maybe he could grab a cup of coffee and he'd only be a couple minutes late for his hapkido class.  He'd slept too late again, but he was still so tired.  The night job at the club might be a little too much, but he couldn't afford to quit it until he had some other source of income lined up.  Otherwise he'd inevitably end up having to crawl back to his parents again, and the thought of that made his head throb with anger.  Or maybe that was just the sleep deprivation.

He barely looked up as the barista behind the counter greeted him.  He couldn't remember the guy's name, maybe something with an "F," but fuck that guy anyway for being so cheerful at-- Okay, so maybe it was almost 11:30 in the morning, but Kylo was in no mood for that sunny disposition bullshit.  Ignoring his friendly coworker, he swept past into the storage room where the schedule bulletin was posted.

Un- _FUCKING_ -believable.

Again.  That scrawny little ginger shit had done it _again_!  Kylo tore the printed schedule off the board and stalked to the manager's office, not bothering to knock before slamming the door open so hard it cracked loudly against the wall.  "What the _FUCK_ is this, Hux!?"  he shouted, slamming the schedule down onto the desk.

Hux gave a satisfying flinch at the sudden noise when Kylo burst through the door, but then the pastey bastard had the audacity to look  _annoyed_.  He turned away from the supply ledger he was working on and glanced up at Kylo with bored eyes, lip curled slightly in disdain.  "That appears to be next week's schedule.  Are you having trouble reading?"

Kylo couldn't remember ever wanting to choke someone so badly in his entire life, including that time he got arrested for  _actually_  choking his asshole roommate freshman year.  But Hux was still breathing, and Kylo's hands weren't wrapped around his throat, so maybe all that Anger Management stuff was paying off.  Gritting is teeth, he spread the schedule flat on the desk and jabbed his finger at the "Wednesday" time-slot under his name.  " _This!_ " he growled, "I told you  _I can't work Wednesdays this semester!_   That's when I have studio time for my capstone project!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do, Ren?  No one else is available to work then, either, since Phasma went home for the semester.  You aren't the only one with a class schedule to work around.  Carol volunteered to skip a lecture last week to work that shift, but she can't do that indefinitely until I can hire someone else.  Why should your schedule take precedence over her's?  Besides,"  Hux leaned forward and fucking  _sneered_  at him, that  _insufferable little shit_ , "Let's be honest.  We both know you won't manage to graduate this year, anyway."

Before he could even register what was happening, he was storming back out onto the street.  He was pretty sure he had grabbed a stapler or something off the desk and smashed it against the wall on his way out, and he faintly registered Hux's bitchy voice yelling something about "damages" and "show up or else," but he was _DONE_.  He had to get out of there before he did something to get himself arrested again.  
*

*  
Wednesday came along, and Hux had to admit that the day was going better than expected so far.  Ren had shown up for the shift he'd had a massive tantrum over, even though he made it clear he wasn't happy to be there.  That was fine.  Business was slow in the late afternoon, and Hux sent him to the back of the shop to handle an incoming supply delivery.  That dramatic, muscle-headed toddler could sulk all he wanted back there, away from the hapless customers who just wanted their coffee.

Ren had been a nightmare this past week.  While so far he didn't seem to have offended any customers, he'd been more horrible than usual to his coworkers, and he'd "accidentally" broken several pieces of equipment, including an expensive espresso machine.  If this kept up it was going to do some serious harm to their branch's profit margin, and Hux would take the heat for it.  Miserable as this job was, he couldn't afford to lose it.  Not before he finished his dual Masters degree in Architecture and Engineering and landed some impossible dream job that would pay him enough to take care of the massive student loan debt he'd incurred.

Oh, god, he couldn't think about that right now.  He was at work, training this nervous girl he'd just hired, and he needed to focus on the task at hand.  He especially couldn't think about how something had gone wrong with his deferment and he was going to have to start paying back his undergraduate loans at the end of the month.  Or that he wasn't getting paid again before the first payment was due, or the disturbing fact that his bank balance was currently sitting at a grand total of $1.37, or the frighteningly empty state of his refrigerator, or-

His heart was beginning to race, and that feeling of imminent, hopeless  _disaster_  was creeping over him, and he  _could not_  have another anxiety attack right now on top of everything else, or  _ever_ , preferably, that would be ideal.  He turned away from the front counter and leaned against the wall by the  _broken_  espresso machine and forced himself to breath deeply and reminded himself that he was  _not_  actually suffocating.  He could hear Jen, the new girl, saying something to him, and he needed to respond, but he just needed a minute first-

And then there was screaming and the sound of things breaking, and he was 100% sure it wasn't in his head.

Everything was a violent blur of motion.  Tables overturned, and he thought this sort of thing only happened in horror films, but this was _REAL_.  Two people were pulling Jen over the counter but there was something  _wrong_  about them, their faces and fingers skeletal and waxy, their eyes sunken and their lips peeling away from blackened teeth.  He looked on in shocked disbelief for a split second before instinct kicked in and he grabbed her outstretched arm, tried to pull her back, but oh God they were tearing at her skin and biting her and his ears were ringing with the screams.  One of them bit her in the neck and warm blood spurted across his face, in his eyes.  He stumbled back blindly but her grip held fast, fingernails gouging into his wrist as he lost his balance and tumbled over the counter after her.

The fall jarred him loose from Jen's grasp, and he pushed himself back toward the counter.  He tried to scrub his sleeve across his face, but sharp, boney fingers caught his forearm in a bruising grip.  He kicked out at the thing dragging itself closer to him and braced his free hand against its throat to hold it back, gagging at the smell of blood on its breath even as he fought to keep its teeth away from his skin.  How could something this rotted and frail-looking be so impossibly strong!?  His arms started to shake with fatigue as he screamed, closing his eyes tightly and turning his head away, unable to witness his own imminent death.

A muted metallic sound rang out, sounding miles away, then again, and again, and suddenly the thing pinning him down went limp against him in a spray of tepid gore.  Hux opened his eyes to find half of its head missing and he shouted wordlessly as he struggled to throw the corpse off of him and scramble away until his back pressed against a solid, flat surface.  Only then did he look up to see Ren standing over him, blood spattered over his arms and t-shirt, his eyes wild and dangerous, gripping an industrial steel broom handle like a barbarian with a fucking broadsword.  For a sickening moment he thought Ren would attack him next, but when seconds passed with nothing more than the two of them staring at each other, breathing heavily, he began to relax enough for the full horror of the past few minutes to sink in.

There were corpses and blood everywhere he looked.  Jen, that poor girl, was only recognizable to him now by her blood-soaked apron.  Outside was chaos.  People shouted and ran frantically though the street as more of those things ambled after them.  Cars blocked the road at odd angles and tires screeched.  There was a loud bang in the distance and the lights in the shop flickered out.  Hux vaguely remembered glimpsing a few headlines and snatches of news reports about some sort of infection, people going mad and killing each other, but he'd thought it was an exaggeration or a hoax.  People were always being horrible and killing each other in the news, anyway, so why wouldn't the media link a few unrelated tragedies and play up the "zombie" angle to boost sales in October?  But this was it, apparently.  It was real.

If society was collapsing, maybe he need not worry about his student loans after all.

A few choked sounds caught in his chest before a bubble of hysterical laughter broke free.  God, what was wrong with him?  Laying in the floor amid half a dozen corpses, covered in blood and filth, the world going to hell outside, and all he can think is  _what a relief not to worry about my finances!_   His shoulders shook, and he wasn't even sure if he was laughing or sobbing now as his eye began to sting and his vision blurred. 

A hand gripped him around the bicep, pleasantly broad and warm in contrast to the cold, skeletal hand that had clutched at him moments ago, even if the grip was almost as painfully tight.  Ren was shaking him, saying something to him.  Really, he needed to start listening to what the people around him were saying.  These things might be important.  He blinked his eyes clear and rasped an inelegant "What?"

"DID IT  _FUCKING_  BITE YOU!?" Ren practically screamed in his face, that feral glint still in his eyes.  Despite Ren having just saved his life, Hux was suddenly terrified. As if now that all the rules had gone out the window, maybe Ren would kill him like he'd probably always wanted to.  He tried to answer the question, but couldn't get the word out and shook his head stiffly instead.  Their eyes locked for a moment and Ren seemed to come to a decision, then he hauled Hux to his feet and muttered frantically, "We can't stay here, it's not safe.  We have to go."

_Where could we possibly go that would be safe?_   Hux wanted to ask, but he said nothing as Ren pulled him roughly along and out through the back door into the garbage-strewn alley behind the shop.  When Ren let go of him he continued to follow, having nowhere else to go.  
*

*  
Of course neither one of them would have a car.  That would just make things too easy, wouldn't it?  Sure, it would probably be wrecked or blocked in somewhere in the mess downtown, but at least there would be a  _possibility_  they might have had a decent means of transportation.  Instead, here he was, riding a stolen  _bicycle_  through the Zombie Apocalypse, swinging a fucking broom handle around like an idiot, with the world's shittiest ginger on another bike, trying to keep up behind him.  Just because he couldn't bring himself to let the bastard die.  Kylo didn't even bother wondering "how is this my life?" because  _of-fucking-course_  this would be his life.  It almost wouldn't make sense if things worked out any better.  He let his anger build, driving him to push the pedals faster.  It was easier than letting himself think about what was happening, where he was going, or what he might find when he got there.

"Where the hell are we going!?"

Kylo made a sharp turn and skidded sideways to a stop so suddenly that Hux almost crashed into him.  At least it was satisfying to see the little shit fall off his bike in his struggle to stop quickly enough.  Kylo glared down at him as he picked himself up.  "I don't care where the hell  _you_  go, but  _I'm_  going to check on my parents.  Don't you have your own people to worry about?  Why the fuck are you following me, anyway?"

Instead of looking up, Hux focused on dusting himself off for a moment, as if his clothes weren't hopelessly filthy anyway.  When he finally did look at Kylo, still glaring stubbornly, his voice was softer.  "My mother died four years ago, and I've never met my father.  So no, I don't have any family to worry about."  He looked away again, apparently not wanting to meet Kylo's eyes as he grudgingly admitted, "And you saved my life.  It looks like my best chances of survival lie with you for the moment, since you seem to have a better handle on this situation than everyone else."

Kylo glanced at the broom handle in his hand, then back to Hux with a glare.  "Did you seriously just make a pun right now?  I fucking swear..."  shaking his head, he turned away and started off again in the direction of his parents' home, assuming they still lived there.  He hadn't spoken to them in three years, so he had no way of knowing for sure until he arrived.  "I don't care if you follow me, but never do that again."

"The pun was  _not_  intentional, that I promise you!"

"And stop making so much noise!  You'll attract more zombies!"  He slowed down a bit to allow Hux to catch up, if only to keep him from yelling to be heard.  So Hux didn't have a family, and there was no point in asking about friends because no one with any sense would hang out with that prick.  He was just as much of a pathetic loser as Kylo had always assumed him to be, and he was in terrible shape, too, judging by the heavy, panting breaths he could hear catching up to him.  Shit.  Why did he bother saving this guy?  If left alone Hux would surely be dead by the end of the day, but now that he'd already saved him once Kylo was starting to feel obligated to continue keeping him alive.

"They're not  _zombies_ , Ren.  Don't be ridiculous."  Hux panted as he finally caught up.  "Zombies are fictional, like vampires, or unicorns."

"Well, they're  _dead people_  who are walking around attacking and  _fucking eating people alive_  so what the hell would  _you_ call them, genius?"  When Hux didn't respond for a while, Kylo glanced over and noticed he looked like he might be sick.  Right, he probably didn't need the reminder that he'd almost been torn apart and eaten by gross, rotting dead people less than an hour ago.  Well, maybe that would shut him up for a few minutes, at least.

It seemed like  _forever_  before he was finally turning onto his parents’ street.  He didn't remember it being so far away, but then he'd never made the trip by  _bike_  before.  It was an upscale neighborhood and it was usually quite but now, just like every other street they'd been through on the way, there were signs of violence and the distant sounds of conflict.  A car screeched around the corner ahead and a zombie clinging to the trunk tumbled off into the street as it sped past them.  Kylo picked up speed on his bike and swung the broom handle in a low arc, caving the thing's skull in with a sickening, wet crunch.  He wondered if this nightmare would drag on long enough for him to grow desensitized to that disgusting sound.

The house was just up ahead, and even from a distance he could tell something was wrong.  The garage door was partially open and looked damaged, and shards of glass from a shattered window on the second floor glittered on the roof and across the main walkway.  He dumped the bike in the front yard and hurried across the lawn to the front door, hoping to find it locked or barricaded, but it wasn't even  _closed_  all the way, and his mom fucking  _hated that.  It let the heat or the AC or whatever out and it's irresponsible and a waste of money, Ben, shut the door behind you, you'll let bugs in the house, and--_   Kylo closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.  Maybe they weren't home.  Maybe they went some place safer, or into the city to look for him, or--  Something.  Maybe they left a note to say where they went, in case he came looking for them.  As if they had any reason to believe he would come to check on them, after  _three fucking years_  without so much as sending them a Christmas card.  

Three years, just because they tried to push him toward one of those soul-sucking "practical" careers instead of letting him do what he was passionate about. _You're so smart, Ben! Why don't you be a brain sergeon or a business tycoon or a law professor or some other thing that requires you to spend half your life going to school just so you can spend the rest of your life working your ass off in a career you never wanted in the first place!_ Hell no. He loved creating art. Pouring his heart and soul, all his passion and rage, into a creation that he could share with the world. Professor Snoke, his Art Theory instructor, said he was good. That he could even be _great_ with a few years of practice and hard work, but his parents were holding him back. They didn't want him to switch majors, so he cut them out of his life to prove he could get on fine on his own.  

Now here he was, a 5th-year senior on the verge of dropping out, anyway, so what did it matter?  Maybe if the entire world wasn't going to shit all around him he would still stand by his decisions, but right now as he stood in blood-spattered clothes on his parents' front porch, afraid of what he'll find when he goes inside, he would do anything to go back in time and just  _do what they wanted._  To be the good son who made his parents proud instead of fighting them  _every step of the way_  as they did their best to raise a kid they didn't understand.

Footsteps on the porch behind him shook Kylo from his thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder to see bright red hair in his peripheral vision.  So far Hux was still keeping silent, which was a blessing because he wasn't sure he could handle that irritating voice right now.  Kylo braced himself and pushed the door, which swung open silently.  He reached just inside to grab the baseball bat his dad always kept by the door-  _Really, Han, is that necessary?  Do you expect someone coming here to murder us is going to knock and politely wait for you to answer the door?_ - and handed it to Hux before he stepped warily over the threshold.

The house was just the way he remembered it, apart from a few things being conspicuously out of place:  Photo frames askew on the wall, a crystal bowl on the floor with scattered citrus fruit, an ominously rust-colored smear on the wall by the stairs.  Dread knotted in his gut with every step he took into the house and he fought the urge to call out for his mom, as if she might be just around the corner in her office.  The front door latch clicked as Hux followed him in and shut it behind him, the sound of it unbearably loud in the quiet house.  Kylo turned to glare at him, but then there was a shuffle of movement from the second floor.  He was afraid to hope, but he needed to check, anyway.  "Stay down here and try not to die for five minutes," he muttered to Hux, then made his way quietly up the stairs.

There was more blood on the landing at the top of the stairs, and a kitchen knife on the floor in the hallway, red gleaming on its edge.  The door to his father's study-  _it sounds so pompous, but I dunno what else to call it.  It's not an office or a "man-cave" or whatever.  Leia calls it my "study" so I guess I'll stick with that._ -  was open and there were muted, unsettling sounds coming from inside.  Kylo stooped to pick up the knife, his pulse thudding rapidly in his throat, and he stepped into the open doorway.

Blood was the first thing he saw.  All over the floor, soaking into the rug.  A red-stained hand laying limp against the brocade pattern.   _Don't look.  Don't look at it.  Don't, don't, don't._   He forced himself to look away from the crumpled body on the floor, to push away any details that might render it into a recognizable person.  The soft, wet crunching sounds he'd struggled not to think about as he approached came from the zombie crouching over the bloodied form and a dizzying wave of horror struck him when it finally registered what he was hearing.  He stumbled back against the door frame and the  _thump_  of the door bumping against the wall drew the zombie's attention.  It turned toward him, and suddenly he couldn't breath.   _No, no, no nonono_

His father's face gazed up at him with eyes clouded white in death.  Gore streaked his chin and hands, down the front of his shirt, and dribbled out the side of his ruined face where the flesh was torn away and dangled loosely from the left side of his jaw.  He lurched to his feet and for an absurd moment Kylo thought he might speak, maybe to berate him for showing up after so long without so much as a phone call, but the only sound he made was a sickening, wet gurgle as he stretched out his hands and dragged himself toward the only living thing in the room.

_It's not real.  This can't be real, it's not happening._

Kylo stood frozen in abject terror as the thing that used to be his father stumbled toward him until the pain of its cold fingers digging into his collarbone finally shocked him into action.  He braced the broom handle across its throat to hold it back as it struggled to grip and pulled at his chest, his shirt, his arms, any part of him it could reach.  He choked on the frantic sounds of anguish rising hot in his throat as memories flooded back to him of those same hands helping him up off the carpet when he'd fallen, holding a flashlight as Han's voice talked him through checking the fluids on a car for the first time, of Han's eyes when they were warm with pride when he'd done something clever, or cold with disappointment like they were the last time they'd spoken.  His eyes burned as he fought desperately to push the monster away but it only clung tighter, bruising and nearly tearing his skin.  Only when tears blurred Han's features into nothing did he remember the knife in his hand and sink it into the thing's eye socket.  

He shoved the body away and it fell heavy on the rug, then he was sliding down the door frame to the floor.  Trying not to look at his father's corpse, he inadvertently glanced over the slight form of the other body, quickly looking away again, but not before he noticed the slippers.  Those ugly fucking green slippers his mother wore in the house.  A harsh sob finally escaped him and he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to keep from seeing any more.  He couldn't bear to see Leia like that, she was too fucking tough to die that way, she deserved  _better!_

Overwhelmed with grief and directionless  _anger_ , he wasn't sure how long he sat there.  He knew he was sobbing hopelessly, could feel his chest heaving and his throat growing raw, but the ringing in his ears drowned out any sound.  Slowly the ringing was replaced with his own harsh breathing as everything drained into numbness.  Everything except the throbbing in his head.  They were gone and he hated everything, hated himself for wasting years not talking to them, but he couldn't waste time on this right now.  His mother would be embarrassed at him for sitting here crying like a child.  She'd clearly fought.  She'd likely done the damage to Han's face and probably more he hadn't noticed, and they were probably in here because she was trying to get to the gun safe.  But all the self-defense tricks she'd taught him when he was being bullied at school couldn't have worked against a lumbering corpse twice her size that couldn't feel pain.

Still, he couldn't believe she was gone.  Han was always travelling for work, so he'd been in and out of his life all the time growing up. Even as a kid he'd always accepted that one day his father would be permanently gone, but his mom was a constant.  She was fierce, indomitable,  _indestructible_ , how could she be fucking  _dead!?_   This was  _wrong_ , everything was  _fucking wrong with the universe if she didn't exist in it!_  He embraced the anger.  It was so much better than letting grief take him.  With anger, at least he could continue to function.   _Leia would be angry_.

Kylo was on his feet, rummaging in the closet for his father's hunting pack before he fully knew what he was doing.  He was going to  _survive_  this, and he needed supplies.  The pack still had some basic supplies and non-perishable rations- that was a good start.  He turned to the gun safe and punched in the lock code - _punch it in one more time, kid. Make sure you have it memorized.  I need you to know in case I'm not here some day when something happens and you and your mom need to protect yourselves._ \-  and loaded everything he could fit into the pack.  He'd get the rest as soon as he found another bag.


	2. Burn It Down

It was ridiculous that he was actually feeling  _awkward_  right now, standing in Ren's parents' living room.  It wasn't as though he and Ren were dating and he was meeting his parents for the first time.  Though this would be a hell of a circumstance to meet them if they were.  And it wasn't like there was any sort of established social etiquette to be observed in the case of-- alright, he may as well admit they were zombies.   _Actual zombies_.  How the hell were there so many of them all of a sudden?  Enough that things were already getting startling dystopian.  Maybe he really should have been paying more attention to the news.  He shifted the baseball bat Ren had handed him awkwardly.  Never having been much of one for sports, the weight of it was unfamiliar, but he was reasonably sure he'd be able to swing it effectively if necessary to defend himself.

Ren had been upstairs for several minutes now, and Hux was starting to get nervous he might not be coming back down.  He also was nervous to go up and check, though.  If one of those things had killed Ren, or Ren had  _become_  one of them, it would be better for him not to go up there and draw attention to himself.  But still... what if Ren needed help?  He resolved to wait five more minutes, then go check.  Until then, he just needed to stay calm.  Five more minutes.  He could manage for five minutes.  Impulsively, he reached up to smooth his hair down to reinforce the outward appearance of "calm" and nearly gagged when he encountered the stiff, slightly tacky texture of drying blood.  Okay, these five minutes were already off to a bad start.

To distract himself, he looked around and took in the trappings of Ren's childhood home.  The house was nice.  Ren's parents were obviously well-off.  No wonder Ren was so quick to destroy property; he probably had no concept of money or expense.   _What was that jackass doing working at a coffee shop, anyway?_   Really he supposed he shouldn't complain about that, considering he'd be  _dead_  right now if Ren hadn't been slumming it in the customer service industry.   _That insufferable, muscle-headed man-child.  That entitled, melodramatic pain in the ass._   Oh, good, he was feeling better already.

Thinking about how much he hated Ren always proved to be an oddly effective means of distracting himself from his worries.  Honestly, it was probably the only reason he hadn't fired him a long time ago.  Arguing with Ren was always strangely satisfying, since Hux always felt like he had the upper hand.  Ren seemed to lack the emotional control necessary to carry out a proper argument with  _words_ , so they usually ended when Hux made him angry enough that he stormed off or broke something, and Hux would consider it a victory.  One small victory to temporarily quell the relentless stress of his life and constant anxiety regarding his future.  It wasn't exactly a healthy coping mechanism, but it was something that kept him functioning.

This was all a mistake, though.  He shouldn't be trusting his life to someone when they'd been antagonizing each other since they'd met.  Ren may have saved him once, but odds were good his life would be in danger again and Ren might make a different decision.  Then again, his other options didn't seem stellar, either.  He could go off and try to manage on his own, but while he might be more intelligent than most, he wasn't quite arrogant enough to deny the fact that his odds of survival were greatly improved if he at least had someone to watch his back.  Maybe Ren hated him, but at least he knew Ren well enough to understand what to expect from him.  He didn't trust Ren, exactly, but he trusted his own knowledge of Ren and his behavior after working with him for-- hell, had it really been 3 years already?  And they were both still standing.  Amazing.  Anyway, if he could prove himself useful, and resist the urge to goad Ren into outbursts as a form of stress relief, maybe this could work temporarily.  At least until a better opportunity presented itself.

Just as he was checking the time to see if his self-prescribed five minute wait was over, Ren came stomping down the stairs toting a couple of heavy-looking bags.  He had more blood on his clothes and hands than before, and that wild look in his eyes was back.  His eyes, which were red and puffy as if he'd also been crying.  Hux guessed there was no good news regarding Ren's parents, then.  "Well?"

Ren glared at him, looking wounded and dangerous.  "Grab anything useful you can carry and bring it to the garage."  Hux instinctively bristled at being told what to do, but he wasn't foolish enough to argue about it just now.  He turned to do as Ren  _suggested_  and Ren stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.  "Do  _not_  go upstairs."  He said, voice harsh, then nearly shoved Hux away.

Reflexively, Hux brushed off his shoulder and straightened his sleeve as he glared back.  As if he wanted to go up there and see whatever horror show had become of Ren's family, anyway.  Hefting the bat and leaning it over his shoulder in a gesture that made him feel like a ludicrous parody of a professional athlete, he wandered further into the house in search of supplies.

After he'd found the kitchen and gathered all of the non-perishable food and drink he could find into some old grocery bags, he started seeking out empty bottles and jugs and filling them with water from the sink.  There was an antique liquor cabinet in the corner that he considered for a moment before testing the door to find it locked.   _Of course_.  Honestly, who locked up their liquor in a house devoid of misbehaving children?  He could easily break the glass, but he was unwilling to make a bunch of needless noise and risk cutting himself on the broken shards.  Instead, he rummaged through the kitchen drawers until he found a butter knife with a tip thin and blunt enough to function as a screwdriver, then set about removing the hinges from the cabinet's door.  Once he had the door off he pushed aside the wine and liqueurs in favor of higher proof options that would be flamable. He loaded them all into another empty bag, then gathered as much as he could carry in one go and went to find the door to the garage.

The garage proved easy to find, as all he had to do was follow the sound of Ren's clattering and cursing.  So much for minimizing noise.  There was a practical-looking sedan nearest to the door, but the windshield was cracked and the front passenger-side window broken out with glittering cubes of safety glass scattered inside the car.  Walking around the car revealed another zombie corpse slumped against the passenger door with a hammer embedded in its skull.  The sight of it made Hux's stomach lurch, despite all he'd already seen and been through today.  He thought again suddenly of the events earlier in the coffee shop, of Jen's blood still caked in his hair, and nearly gagged again.  He distantly hoped that this corpse, at least, hadn't been someone Ren knew.

Ren himself appeared to be fighting with the broken garage door as if it were solely to blame for every terrible thing they'd experienced this day. His considerable muscles bulged and strained as he alternated between prying at the warped steel tracks with a short crowbar and yanking ineffectually at the door to force it the rest of the way open. He moved in a frantic blend of fury and desperation like a mindless animal trying to tear its way out of a cage.  Hux was loathe to interrupt him when he was seemingly lost in some sort of violent rage, but he could feel panic rising in him again at the thought of more of those monsters being attracted by the noise.  Already he was envisioning masses of grasping, bloody hands reaching under the gap at the bottom of the door.  He scrambled to empty his hands without breaking any bottles or adding to the noise and hurried toward the garage door, hovering as close as he dare without physically touching Ren or getting in his way.  "Ren, you can't--  Stop!  You have to  _stop!"_

The crowbar dropped to the floor with a loud  _clang_  and Ren whirled toward him, looking impossibly huge and murderous at having been interrupted.  Heaving slow, heavy breaths, Ren advanced, and for all the rage on Ren's face Hux could only imagine the terror on his own.  This was it, he was going to die.  Who would have guessed Ren would finally snap and murder him when he wasn't even actually trying to provoke him for once?  Hux stumbled backward and raised his hands defensively, bracing himself as Ren raised a fist, but instead of striking Hux he turned to drive his fist senselessly into the garage door.  A moment passed while Hux's brain processed the the shock that he  _wasn't_  being beaten to death and Ren slumped forward to press his palms and forehead against the door, the knuckles of his right hand now split and bleeding.  Ren was quiet, his shoulders shaking, until he took in a gasp of air that sounded suspiciously like a sob.  

"Ren..." Hux couldn't decide at the moment if the idea of Ren crying in front of him was more or less horrifying than Ren physically attacking him.  He had no experience what-so-ever trying to comfort people, and he suspected Ren would  _not_  appreciate any attempt he made to do so.  This entire situation was unnatural, and he'd felt like everything in his life was spinning out of control since well before the  _actual bloody zombies_  showed up.  What the hell was he supposed to do to make any of this even remotely better?  Taking deep breaths to try to calm his racing heart and the crawling, jittery feeling under his skin from the  _second_  rush of adrenaline fear of death had put into him that day, he glanced at the bent garage door.  If Ren wanted the damned thing open so badly, surely he could manage that much.  At least it gave him something productive to focus on, rather than standing there pointlessly watching Ren cry.

The door was dented in at the middle and hanging partially off the tracks.  A closer inspection of the tracks themselves showed that Ren might have actually been making a bit of progress in forcing them back to their proper shape, but the bend in the door along with several casters being off-track were causing it to raise unevenly and wedge itself in place any time Ren tried to lift it.  He could make this work.  Ren's ridiculous brute strength would help if he could convince him to apply it in a practical way instead of flailing around madly with a crowbar, but approaching him didn't seem like the best idea at the moment.  He might not be the hulking beast that Ren was, but he wasn't a complete weakling.  He could handle this on his own.  Making his way around Ren and keeping a cautious eye on the gap at the bottom of the door, he picked up the crowbar and got to work on setting the loose casters back in place.

As with many things, this task proved simpler in concept than in execution.  After a few attempts Hux had managed to pop one caster back into place, only to have it pop right back out again.  Right.  So he clearly needed to address the bent door first, if he could get Ren to stop standing directly in front of the problem area like a sad gorilla.  He turned and startled so violently he nearly dropped the crowbar when he found that Ren had somehow silently moved to stand directly behind him.  His face was pink and puffy and drawn into a scowl, though at least the wild and dangerous look in his eye had dulled into something more along the lines of angry determination.  Straightening his posture and scowling back, Hux gestured toward the door and tried his best to keep a civil tone.  "We have to straighten that dent out if you want to get this door open."

Ren didn't say anything, just snatched the crowbar out of Hux's hands and went to work on the door.  Rather than trying to haphazardly pound the dent back out, as Hux expected, he used the crowbar to carefully lever the worst of the damage back into place.  Okay, so maybe Ren wasn't completely dense when he wasn't having a total emotional meltdown, but Hux was hardly going to admit that out loud.  Instead of commenting, he found a rusted hammer and focused on using the curved "claw" end to pop the casters back onto the track as Ren got sections of the door flattened out enough for them to hold in place.

They worked together in not-so-companionable silence for several minutes until Ren popped the last caster into place himself and immediately went to heave the door open.  It  _did_  open this time, though loudly and unsteadily, and with a great deal of effort on Ren's part.  Hux braced himself for roving corpses to come flooding in, but thankfully it didn't happen.  There was only a single lone figure a couple of blocks down the street, stumbling slowly in their direction.  They both eyed it warily, but at the pace it was moving it would be several minutes yet before it reached them.  Even though he knew it was a safe distance away, Hux still had a difficult time making himself look away from it.  As though it would instantly be on him, tearing at his flesh, the moment he took his eyes off of it.  Ren, on the other hand, was already walking back into the garage as he asked, "Do you know how to use a gun?"

"What?... No," Hux turned to follow Ren, but still didn't take his eyes from the zombie in the street, "I've never even touched one.  Why would I?"

"Guess you'll have to stick with the baseball bat for now, then.  And you'll probably want to hang on to that hammer, too."

Hux finally dragged his eyes away from the approaching zombie when he heard fabric rustling and the soft  _swoosh_  of Ren pulling the cover off of the second vehicle in the garage.

Oh god.

Instead of the uselessly flashy mid-life crisis mobile he might have expected to find in an affluent home like this, there was a decrepit monstrosity.  It didn't even look vaguely sporty, it was just a faded grey fucking  _station wagon_.  Why would anyone even bother to put a cover on this thing, as though it deserved to be protected from the elements even inside a climate controlled garage?  The word "FALCON" was stamped across the tailgate in chrome letters peppered with rust.  It seemed like a wildly inappropriate word to associate with the heap of metal in front of him.  "What the  _hell_  is this?"

"It's a 1967 Ford Falcon.  It's-...was... my dad's.  He used to work on it all the time."

"Okay.  Well, that's-" Hux bit back all the acerbic comments crowding on the tip of his tongue, "...great.  But what are you doing with it?"  His gut clenched with dread even as he ask.

"We're taking it."

Oh god.

"Ren..."  His mind reeled as he struggled to phrase his argument delicately enough that it wouldn't set Ren off again.  "This car is  _ancient_.  How far do you expect it to get before it breaks down?  Just look at it!  It's probably just rust and duct tape holding it together!"

"That's bullshit, there's hardly any rust!" Ren placed a hand affectionately on the hood, almost as though he were trying to soothe the ghastly thing after Hux's insults.  "And it runs great.  My dad took care of it.  The engine's been completely overhauled, and it has some upgrades... he just didn't bother much with paint and bodywork is all."  Ren looked up and Hux caught a glimpse of wistful sorrow on his face before it morphed back into a scowl, no doubt in response to the disgust in his own expression.  "Just look for yourself, since you think you're some genius engineer!"  He opened the driver's-side door and popped the hood, inviting Hux to inspect the engine.  Hux wanted to point out that  _engineer_  wasn't the same thing as  _auto mechanic_ , but he held his tongue.   _Again_.  With dismay, he realized he was probably going to be doing that  _a lot_  as long as he stayed with Ren.  Lip curling slightly in distaste, Hux glanced outside once more to check the position of the zombie in the street, then stepped around the front of the rubbish-bin-on-wheels and lifted the hood.

_Oh god._

There certainly had been a lot of performance-enhancing work done on this thing.  From the engine itself to the exhaust system, Hux doubted much of anything was original to the vehicle.  Not that most of it looked  _new_ , exactly, but certainly not  _standard_  for a vehicle from 1967.  Maybe all the modifications increased performance, but he couldn't help but think how each bit of work done was something else that could go wrong.  This was a terrible idea.  "This is-... Ren, we  _can't_  take this car.  It's a disaster waiting to happen!  There are so many modifications something's bound to break down!  We could find another car.  An abandoned one with the keys still in it, or one I could hotwire, or-"

Ren shoved him aside and slammed the hood closed.  " _I'm_  taking it.  You can fuck off on your own if you don't like it.  Good luck.  You can start by taking care of  _that_  on your way out."  He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the zombie which had now nearly reached the end of the driveway.

Of course Ren would develop a single-minded fixation on something like this.  Hux didn't bother trying to suppress his sneer.  He was  _done_  with this.  Maybe he  _would_  be better off on his own if Ren was going to be so foolishly unreasonable.   _Why had he expected anything different!?_   Retrieving the baseball bat, he stalked haughtily past Ren toward the creature staggering its way up the driveway.  It couldn't be that difficult to kill these things.  They were slow and decaying and he'd seen Ren kill enough of them already to get the gist of it, but as he drew closer to the zombie he felt the familiar tightening in his chest.  All he could think about were skeletal hands tearing at him, the stench of rotting flesh, gnashing teeth inches from his face, Jen screaming.  He tried to raise the bat, but he couldn't breathe and black static crept into the edges of his vision.  He was going to pass out.  He was going to  _die-_

Suddenly Ren was in front of him, shoving the zombie back out into the street and cracking its skull with the crowbar.  Firm hands gripped his shoulders and marched him back into the garage and Ren was saying something to him again, but his head was still swimming as he struggled to remember how to breathe.  He really should start listening when people were speaking to him, honestly it was just  _rude_  not to, especially when they'd just saved him from being  _eaten alive_  for the  _second time that day_.  God, he wasn't going to last a  _week_  like this, was he?

When he finally came back to his senses, he found himself seated on a rickety old bench while Ren loaded things into the back of that awful deathtrap of a vehicle.  Ren glanced up from his work and when he noticed Hux seemed to be alert, he scowled again.  Ren only had two facial expressions, after all, didn't he?  "Scowl" and something Hux wanted to call "neutral annoyance."  He took a few steps closer to Hux to continue whatever he'd been saying before.  "I'm serious!  I can only keep saving your ass for so long if you're going to freak out every time a fucking zombie gets within five feet of you."

Right.  He was only alive right now because of Ren.  He literally owed his life to Ren twice over now.  He should be grateful.  When it came to Ren, though, anger was so much easier than gratitude.  "I wasn't  _freaking out_ , I just-"  Hux clenched his teeth as he struggled to come up with an argument, but he couldn't think of any apart from objecting to the term "freak out" itself.  Judging by Ren's scoff in response to his silence, he knew it, too.  So Ren had actually won an argument for once, it really must be the end of the world, then.  Hux had never hated him more.  If this is how life was going to be from now on, part of him hoped Ren  _would_  just let him die next time to put an end to this miserable existence.  In the meantime Hux swallowed down his anger, along with a hot ball of frustration that made his eyes sting at his own proven ineptitude, and got up to make himself useful.  Gathering up some of the bags he'd brought out from the kitchen, he helped Ren load things into the car.

He just needed time to adjust.  In time, he would master the skills he needed to get by in this new world, just as he'd done in each new situation he'd been thrust into throughout his life.  He'd adjusted when his mother dragged him to this country as a child with the vague explanation of "making a fresh start," learning quickly to mask his accent to keep other children from laughing at him.  He'd adjusted to every subsequent move from one town to the next as she chased whatever work she could find, learning not to get attached to a place or the people in it so he wouldn't have to be sad when they moved again.  He'd adjusted when his mother found steady work as a kitchen maid for a wealthy old woman who was kind enough to fund private school for him as part of his mother's salary.  It was a prestigious school where he was bullied relentlessly by his wealthy peers for being a servant's child.  There he learned that the acceptance of his peers was worthless, and he stopped bothering to try fitting in.  Instead he ruthlessly outperformed them academically at every turn, which only made the bullying worse, but at least he had the satisfaction of proving beyond doubt that he was  _better_  than them, and knowing that  _they_  knew it, too.  He'd even adjusted to his mother's illness after he went to college, though taking a semester off in his undergraduate years to work and help care for her had caused him to lose all of his scholarships.  The adjustment when he returned to school after her death was one he still struggled with years later, but he'd been  _managing_ , damn it!  Maybe  _zombie apocalypse_  was a harsher environment than any he'd been forced into before, but he was nothing if not clever and adaptable.  He would adjust, he would learn, and once he did he wouldn't need Ren anymore.

Ren picked up one of the bags Hux has brought out and looked inside when he heard the clink of glass.  "What the fuck?  Why'd you pack all the booze?  Don't tell me you're a secret alcoholic on top of everything else."

Hux gritted his teeth and tossed a bag of canned goods carelessly into the back of the car.  "They're  _accelerants_ , you  _ignorant_ \-- It's to help start fires, or to sterilize things.  In a pinch, with the right equipment, I could even use it to fuel an engine or a generator for a little while.  Getting drunk in an environment like this would be a  _profoundly stupid_  idea."  As soon as the words were out of his mouth he could see Ren bristling, and he braced himself for a shouting match.  Now that he was reasonably certain Ren didn't actually intend to kill him, he couldn't help himself.  Arguing with Ren over trivial nonsense was familiar, almost comfortable.  This is how things were supposed to be, and some part of him was craving this small bit of normalcy right then.  But his hopes were dashed as Ren simply let out a slow breath, shoulders slumping slightly, and carried on loading things into the car.

Completely dumbfounded, Hux felt like something vital about the universe as he understood it was set off-balance.  The anger and momentum he'd been building toward this inevitable argument now seemed to spin around pointlessly inside his skull with no outlet.  He stared blankly at Ren for a moment before his rational mind kicked in again, and he went inside to retrieve the rest of the things he'd packed inside the house.  A tremendous urge to break something washed over him, and he distantly wondered if this is what Ren felt like 95% of the time.  That thought alone was enough to convince him to forcefully suppress the urge and carry on with the task at hand.  When he went back out to the garage, arms loaded with the rest of the bags from the kitchen, Ren was already in the driver's seat backing the car out into the driveway.  Blind panic gripped his chest for a split second before Ren stopped the car on the street in front of the house, got out again and walked around it, checking it over and kicking the tires, and Hux was left with the painful realization of how desperately afraid he was of being left behind.  That was something he'd have to deal with later, but for now he took a slow breath to regain his composure, and calmly loaded his burden into the back of the wagon, closing it securely when he was finished.  Of course Ren hadn't been leaving yet, the back end of the car had still been hanging open.  He was panicking over nothing,  _as per usual_.

"I already checked the fluids and everything.  It's all perfect."  Ren muttered as he finished his inspection, then turned to look back at the house.  A strange expression crossed his face as he stood staring for a moment and he mumbled something else to himself.

"What?"  Hopefully he'd misheard, but his hopes for that weren't very high.

"I should burn it down."  Ren's voice was clear and firm this time, and there was no mistaking his words.

"Ren-!"  Hux stalked angrily toward Ren, ready to argue against any more of these ridiculous whims, but Ren whirled on him with that frightening look in his eye again, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"I can't just fucking  _leave them in there like that!_ Just rotting on the floor like no one gave a shit about them while looters pick through their fucking house!"  Ren crowded into Hux's space, practically in his face, his eyes already filling with tears and his voice growing rough as he continued,  "What, am I supposed to just bury them in the fucking  _yard!?_  That doesn't make any fucking sense, but they don't-  They  _deserve-_ "

"Okay!"  Hux cut him off, planting a defensive hand firmly in the center of Ren's ridiculously muscled chest, which heaved with every harsh breath Ren took.  "Okay."  He repeated more softly when it seemed like Ren might be done shouting in his face.  It was probably due to the general tension of their situation and his still mildly adrenalized senses that he noticed he could feel Ren's body heat when standing this close to him.  His eyes flicked briefly to the hollow at the base of Ren's throat when he swallowed thickly-  _god, he was covered in grime and drying blood, and there was a rusty red-brown hand print smeared over his collarbone-_  and he took a step back, letting his hand fall to his side with Ren's residual heat still pooling in his palm.  As much as he'd berated Ren for his emotional outbursts and oversensitivity in the past, he had enough information to put the pieces together and determine that, at least in this one instance, Ren's distraught emotional state was warranted.  He wasn't such an asshole that he couldn't at least be  _civil_  with someone who'd just lost  _both_ parents to what were likely grotesque and violent deaths, no matter how much he hated them.

It took a minute or two of leaning over the back seat to root around in the station wagon's cargo area before Hux found the bag of alcohol, but Ren was still standing there watching him when he resurfaced with two nearly full bottles of bourbon. He looked weirdly vulnerable like he didn't know what he was supposed to do and was waiting for someone to give him instructions.  As if there were any protocol to follow for burning down one's childhood home with their parents' corpses still inside.  Hux headed for the front door, a bottle in each hand, and nodded toward the garage as he went.  "See if there's anything else flammable or combustible you didn't pack.  Oil-based paint, paint thinner, motor oil, anything with fire on the warning label."  Ren turned without hesitation to follow instructions and Hux glowered.   _If only Ren had been so compliant when they worked together._

Once inside, Hux set about collecting any wooden objects or furniture he could find and stacking them in the living room. Meanwhile, he could hear Ren loudly rummaging around in the garage.  By the time Ren finally joined him he'd moved on to opening windows to increase airflow through the lower floor of the house.  "Feel free to break some furniture.  Smaller pieces and rough edges make better tinder," he said, an edge of bitterness in his voice at the idea that Ren's penchant for property destruction might actually come in handy for once.  That didn't stop him from startling horribly when Ren picked up armchair and  _threw the thing against a wall_.  Hux had obviously underestimated the storm that suggestion would unleash. He spent the following several minutes pressed in a corner out of the way while Ren wreaked absolute  _havoc_  on the house around him, throwing and smashing virtually every object he could lift, flammable or not, which turned out to be everything in the room except an upright piano.  He finished his performance by hurling an antique cast iron floor lamp through a large picture window in the front of the house, then stood in the middle of the living room, breath heaving, looking just as destroyed as the house around him.

A few tense moments passed while Hux waited to see that Ren was truly finished with his outburst before he cautiously approached and stood next to him, staring out through the broken window in bewilderment.  "I hated that lamp the  _most!_   I stubbed my toe on it so many fucking times-"  Ren's voice was rough, breaking on the last word, and Hux realized without looking at his face that he was crying again.  Some latent compassionate instinct kicked in and gave him the idea that he should have Ren sit down, at least until he finished crying, but Ren had thoroughly ensured that not even the floor was a suitable place to sit now that it was covered in splinters of wood and broken glass.

Moving on some sort of autopilot, driven by instincts he hadn't even known he possessed, he guided Ren outside with a hand on his shoulder and Ren, miraculously, allowed it.  He was aware that he was muttering something quietly to Ren as they went, but even he wasn't paying attention to what he said.  Maybe he wasn't even saying actual words.  He supposed it didn't matter since Ren probably didn't hear any of it anyway as he allowed himself to be persuaded to sit on the front step while Hux went back inside to finish up.

Hux worked as quickly as he could to place piles of kindling and splashes of the surprising bounty of flammable liquids Ren had brought in from the garage strategically throughout the lower level of the house. He finished off by pouring half of a bottle of whiskey over the living room rug.  He tore a scrap of fabric from the destroyed sofa and stuffed it down the neck of the open bottle, then collected the second bottle and went back out to join Ren on the front porch.  

Ren was sitting just where Hux had left him, leaning forward now with his forearms braced against his knees and staring blankly at his large hands while they hung lifelessly in front of him, covered in filth and splinters and minor injuries.  Despite himself, Hux felt something like sympathy twist in his chest as he nudged Ren's shoulder with the bottom of the modified whiskey bottle.  "Here.  It's all set."

Ren stared at him for a moment with a creepy sort of flatness before his gaze flicked to the bottle and a bit of life returned to his eyes, like the sight of a molotov cocktail had jogged him back into reality.  He stood, took the bottle and walked back toward the street with Hux following close behind, wanting to be well away from the house when it ignited.  If he'd set it up correctly, it would be blazing dangerously within seconds.  Ren turned around halfway across the yard and walked backwards a few more steps before stopping.  Hux was only just realizing he had nothing to light the bottle with when Ren solved that problem himself, fishing a disposable lighter from the pocket of his jeans.  He wasn't sure why Ren would carry a lighter, he was pretty sure he didn't smoke, but somehow he wasn't surprised anyway.  For all Hux really knew about Ren's personal life, maybe he was a pyromaniac or he simply enjoyed arson as a hobby. An unexpected spark of excitement made his muscles tense in anticipation as he watched Ren light the molotov and throw it in a smooth arc directly through the broken window to smash across the living room rug.  He huffed out a small breath of satisfaction when he saw flame spreading across the lower level of the house, visible through the widows and the open door, and Hux considered that he might have some burgeoning arsonous tendencies of his own.

They stood side-by-side watching the fire's progress as it slowly crawled its way up the house, curling out the windows to lap at the siding and causing it to scorch and warp.  After a few silent minutes Ren wandered to the car and sat on the ground with his back against the front tire, watching the fire.  Hux was afraid for a moment that Ren would start crying again, but when he just sat there looking so profoundly sad it almost seemed worse.  A quick glance up and down the street showed an astonishing lack of zombies or any other occupants, despite their raucous activity over the last hour or so.  He should probably be grateful for that, but it only made him nervous.  It also meant he had no immediate excuse to rush Ren through whatever grieving process he was experiencing and convince him it was time to go.  He looked down at Ren again and there was a fresh wave of some squirming emotion in his gut at the sight of him which was unsettling in that it didn't seem like hatred, even if it was still unpleasant.  

Ren's hands, he decided, needed medical attention before the open wounds became infected.  There was entirely too much zombie-related gore all over everything not to be concerned, particularly considering how little they actually knew about how this infection spread.  With that in mind, Hux crawled back into the car to rummage through the cargo area until he turned up a dusty plastic box of first aid supplies, then crawled back out and dropped himself down to sit next to Ren in the cold grass.  "I don't suppose you want to try to go to the hospital?"

Ren shook his head slightly, still staring ahead at the burning house.  "No point.  They're probably all overrun anyway, or abandoned or something."

The argument rose to the back of Hux's throat that if they  _did_  find an abandoned hospital they could plunder it for potentially life-saving supplies, but he swallowed it down and filed it away as something to be discussed later.  Instead he snapped open the first aid box and began sorting through the meager contents.  The alcohol pads seemed to have gone dry inside their packaging, but he still had the other bottle of whiskey. He could just pour that over Ren's hands to disinfect the open wounds, because apparently his life was now full of terrible action horror film tropes. "If I try to bandage your hands, are you going to fight me about it?"  There was a slight movement in his peripheral vision that could have been a nod or a head-shake, but Ren remained silent.  "Ren?"

"Holy shit!  I said 'no!'"

"You didn't  _say_  anything, and I'm not a mind reader!  Stop being such a child!"  Any twinge of sympathy he might have been feeling promptly vanished as he opened the bottle and snagged Ren's right wrist, sloshing whiskey over his split knuckles without warning.  To his credit, Ren only flinched and hissed a few curses under his breath in response.  It wasn't until Hux plucked a sizable sliver of wood from his palm and started scrubbing relentlessly at the injury with a booze-sodden gauze pad that Ren snatched his hand away.

"What the fuck!?  Now you're just being a dick on purpose!  I can do it myself!"  Ren tried to lean across Hux and grab the supplies but Hux moved to block him, spilling whiskey over half of Ren's arm and onto the leg of his own pants.

"Damn it!  Would you  _stop!?_   You're wasting supplies, and I hardly think you can tie bandages around your own hands without assistance!"  Ren made another aborted attempt to grab the first aid kit, but sat back and threw his hands up in frustration when Hux snapped the box shut.  He opened his mouth again to argue, but Hux cut him off.  "Contrary to what you believe, every single thing I do is not carefully orchestrated to  _piss you off!_  That's just a happy side-effect I get to deal with.  I am  _actually_  trying to help you, and I have been since we arrived here, so would you kindly  _let me do this for you!?_ "  He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, and he was sure his face had gone red and ugly with rage.  He rarely allowed himself succumb to such a display of anger, but he was tired and scared and, if he was honest with himself, he really was making an effort here if Ren would only meet him half-way.

Ren met his eyes, glare for glare, then something in him relented and he slumped back against the side of the car with a sigh, turning his glare pointlessly on the grass and offering his hand, palm-up, for Hux's treatment.  After a few slow breaths to calm himself down, Hux took Ren's wrist again and continued his work, albeit with a bit more care.  When he'd taken care of all the larger scrapes and cuts, he carefully brushed his thumb over Ren's palm and the pads of his fingers, checking for any smaller splinters and thankfully finding none.   _God, his hands are huge._   The stray thought was pushed away almost as quickly as it occurred.  Pointless detail.  What did the specific size and feel of Ren's hands matter so long as he used them to kill monsters before they could they could sink their teeth into him?

It was only a few short minutes before Hux had Ren's hands cleaned and bandaged to the best of his modest abilities.  It wasn't the neatest job, but least they probably wouldn't get infected now.  As an afterthought, he took a long swig from the whiskey bottle, then offered it to Ren.  If he was living in an action horror film, he may as well embrace it.

Ren accepted the bottle and made an attempt to glare at him, but there was no real heat behind it, as if he was too emotionally exhausted to find any more anger to throw at Hux.  "I thought you said it was 'profoundly stupid' to get drunk right now."  He muttered dully and stared into the half-empty bottle, the firelight making the liquid inside glow orange as dusk set in.

Hux let out an irritated huff.  "It is, but one drink isn't 'getting drunk.'  And I thought you could use it, after..." he flicked his hand in a vague gesture toward the burning house as he let the sentence trail off, unable to choose a specific example from all that had happened over the past several hours and unwilling to say something as cliched as "everything."  "If you don't want it, give it back and I'll put the rest away.  We can use it later for-"

Ren cut him off by taking a long drink from the bottle, then coughing and sputtering as he quickly handed it back to Hux so he could cough into the crook of his elbow.  "Sorry, I don't-  I'm not much of a drinker.  I'm not used to that shit."  he muttered between coughs.  "Fuck, it feels like it's in my nose."

"Sorry, I didn't think to pack bar supplies or I'd have mixed you a nice Old Fashioned or a Manhattan.  Maybe we can stop at the grocery for a jar of cocktail cherries on our way out of town."  Hux snapped as he snatched the bottle back and stoppered it.

Ren turned a fierce glare on him, apparently not too exhausted for anger after all, and Hux got the distinct impression that Ren was resisting the urge to strike him.  "You know what, fuck you, okay?  Sorry I didn't just let zombies eat your contemptuous fucking face!  I don't need you giving me shit over every single thing!"

Ren clambered to his feet and Hux felt himself go from irritated to near panic in a split second as he thought again that Ren actually might abandon him now for his unprovoked spite.  "Wait!" He cringed inwardly at the naked fear in his voice when he frantically caught Ren by the wrist to stop him. Ren glowered down at him in response and it took a precious few seconds to calm his racing thoughts enough to form the rest of the words he needed.  "I-I didn't mean-... I'm  _sorry_."  God, how long had it been since he'd said that to anyone?  His voice didn't even sound like his own when he said it, wavering and pitched higher than usual in desperation.  He could only imagine how pathetic he must look right now and he hated it, but what choice did he have?  He wasn't equipped to survive this mess alone, not yet anyway, and it was worth sacrificing his pride if it increased his chances to survive.

Ren jerked his wrist out of Hux's grasp and for a moment his panic spiked before Ren snarled at him.  "Just get in the fucking car."  Relief flooded through Hux then as he stood on shaking legs to comply.  He climbed into the front passenger seat, trying not to seem like he was hurrying, but Ren just stood there staring at the burning house a while longer.  Hux was just beginning to wonder if Ren planned to stand out there until the house had burned down to a pit of smoldering ashes when he suddenly turned his back to it.

The sun was set by the time Ren got into the driver's seat but the street lamps remained dark. The only light came from the house fire, the smoke obscuring any light source the sky had to offer.  Even all the way out on the street, the heat it gave off was so painfully warm Hux felt like every inch of his exposed skin might blister.  It was a relief when Ren finally turned the ignition and pulled out onto the street, even though Hux had no idea where they were going, where they could sleep, or if they would encounter anyone else who might be willing and able to help them.  He watched the orange flames shrink in the rear view mirror as they left one nightmare behind in exchange for whatever nightmares lay ahead.

Hux wasn't usually afraid of the dark, but he couldn't shake the creeping sense of horror that every open space he couldn't see was teaming with living corpses. Everything outside the cone of light thrown ahead of them by the headlights was nearly pitch black now.  Even though he knew the darkness itself wasn't a sea of rotting mouths waiting to devour him the moment he got too close, he still couldn't bear to look out into it at the moment.  The interior of the car was its own brand of terrible; all stiff, sun-baked vinyl that gave off that stale, dusty old-car-smell; but it wasn't as upsetting as looking out the window.  The air in the cabin of the car felt charged, like it was filled with some sort of explosive energy that might go off at any moment, and it made him both restless and nervous.  His right hand found a crack in the worn covering of the bench seat and he caught himself picking at it, digging his fingertips into the disintegrating sponge inside, and the sensation brought on a strange, peaceful nostalgia as he remembered picking at the torn upholstery in the back seat of his mother's car on long road trips.  Not that those calming memories would have persuaded him to choose the rusted-out old sedan his mother used to drive as his means of transport and survival right now, but he supposed he could understand Ren's motivation.

The drive through the suburbs was unsettling. The streets were overly quiet and occasionally blocked part-way with wrecked cars or corpses.  Despite the occasional flicker of candle light in a window betraying that at least few survivors still huddled in the dark houses, it still felt completely desolate.  Just as Hux was starting to relax, lulled into a tentative calm by the quiet, he was startled violently by a figure throwing itself hard across the hood of the car when Ren slowed to edge around an overturned SUV.  It was too dark to make out its features, but he didn't need to see its face with the way its hands scraped at the windshield, leaving murky streaks against the glass.  It was over almost as quickly as it occurred with Ren cursing and swerving to drag the thing under the tires then speeding away, but it left Hux unsettled again. Suddenly the thought of picking the soft insides out of an aging car seat didn't seem so comforting.  Ren flipped on the windshield wipers, but all that accomplished was to smear whatever gore the zombie left behind across the entire passenger's side of the windshield.  There was probably a metaphor there somewhere, or maybe even a joke, about trying to fix something only to have it turn out so much worse, but Hux's muddled thought process couldn't quite put it together. Instead he just choked back a bubble of inappropriate laughter at the absurdity of it all.

It was too quiet.  His mind was churning in an unproductive loop, and he needed a distraction.  He looked at the stereo and almost choked again when he saw that this rolling bin of garbage sported a fucking  _8-track player_.  He was going to turn on the radio and see if he could find anything but static, but now he was morbidly curious about the working state of this ancient piece of technology.  The glove compartment proved to be a jackpot of worn 8-track cartridges and a he picked through them in the dim light of the cartoonish plastic flashlight he found along side them.  Most of the band names were vaguely familiar to him in that he'd seen teens and hipsters walking around with them printed on distress t-shirts along with dates from before they could have possibly been born, but that was as far as his knowledge went.  He finally settled on one with a handsome image of a prism on it and shoved it into the stereo.

Music blared out of the speakers just as Ren turned onto an exit for the highway going south and Hux scrambled to turn the volume down to a tolerable level.  The instrumentals would have been soothing on their own without the addition of a woman wailing over them, but it was better than silence, anyway.  When the wailing advanced to borderline shrieking Hux cringed and risked a glance over at Ren as he reached to turn it off, but Ren's expression stopped him.  Ren was staring ahead at the road, and even in the dim light of the headlights he could see the haunted look in his eyes and tears on his cheeks.  Hux wasn't sure if the music was affecting him or if he was lost in memories, but either way it seemed best to leave it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a lot of trouble and I'm still pretty annoyed with it. I sure hope you all enjoyed all the bickering, and that exciting garage door repair sequence. Gee-golly, what a ride that was. Congrats if you managed to get through the entire chapter. I promise the next one will be more interesting.
> 
> Also, almost forgot this bonus bit: The 8-track Hux put in is Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon, and the track playing is "The Great Gig in the Sky." It's just a little nod to my dad, who was all about road trips, and this was his favorite album.


	3. Freeze and Thaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux panics, and Ren offers a solution.

Kylo drove until his eyes itched and his head throbbed like someone had bashed it with a baseball bat. He had no idea where the hell he was going, but what the fuck did it matter? Something told him he should stick to rural areas, since denser populations probably just meant a higher concentrations of zombies at this point. He went south because it would be winter soon, and if they were stuck sleeping in the car when that happened then a warmer climate would make it easier. Hux drifted in and out of uneasy sleep in the passenger seat beside him, and when he was awake he was either messing with the stereo or staring at his phone trying to glean information from social media. For several miles they were in range of a radio broadcast of someone rambling incessantly about the current state of things, his theories on what caused it, and how it happened so fast. Some of it sounded pretty far fetched to Kylo, but then who the fuck was he to judge? Government conspiracy? Sure, that was believable enough. Vampires? Why not. Leprechauns? He was pretty sure he had the tallest, crappiest one sitting right next to him in a prissy green polo shirt and khakis. Anything was possible at this point as far as he was concerned.

From what they could put together so far the zombie thing was some sort of infection, but no one was really sure where it came from. Theories ran from government-sanctioned chemical food additives to aliens deploying a biological weapon to "cleanse the Earth of homosapiens." Real conspiracy-nut shit, but whatever. How ever it started, most theorists assumed it had been going on for longer than anyone realized, with the government collecting infected citizens and hiding them away to be studied. Hux even found a twitter account where someone posted photos they'd taken with their camera drone of a walled off complex secluded in a forest somewhere with hundreds of zombies milling around inside. So the popular theory was that the government was hoarding away large groups of zombies and then _some mysterious thing_ happened that caused them to escape virtually all at once and flood into the general populace to wreak havoc. Or more likely they'd all been set loose intentionally, because it seemed like way too much of a wide-spread coincidence for it to have been accidental. Hux was in the process of trying to determine if this was a problem specific to the US or if the entire world was being overrun with zombies when he lost his cell signal and got so pissed off about it he almost threw his phone out the window. It was almost funny, except nothing was funny anymore, or probably ever would be again. Everything fucking sucked and nothing mattered.

Apparently something like amusement showed on his face, though, because Hux bared his teeth at him in that ridiculous little angry grimace he got when he was about to start a fight. "What are you so amused about? I'm trying to figure out if there's any hope of a safe place to go, but maybe that doesn't matter to you!"

"Who cares if this is the only place in the world with zombies? How does that help us? Are we supposed to steal a boat and sail to Europe? Do you follow politics at all, because people were worked up enough about immigrants and refugees and shit back when the only things they worried about were terrorists and having enough resources and shit. Even if Canada was safe and we did manage to get to the boarder, there's _no fuckin' way_ anyone is gonna' let refugees from a zombie-infested-horror-land into their nice zombie-free country. There's too much potential for us to bring our mysterious corpse-reanimating disease with us. It's cute that you're thinking long-term, though, but right now I'm a little more concerned about making sure we don't die by the end of the week!"

Hux let out a little scoff that sounded more like a kitten sneezing than anything else. "I didn't realize you were so politically aware."

That snotty tone was enough to make Kylo want to put his fist through a wall, but since he was driving he just glared ahead at the road. "Right, because you think I'm too stupid to understand anything more complex than how to tie my shoes. I noticed. I'm just a walking muscle-headed idiot stereotype to you." He seethed internally and only narrowly held in a rant about what a scrawny, awkward kid he'd been. How he'd spent more time in high school getting shoved in lockers and going to the nurse than he'd spent in gym class. His mom had insisted on putting him in martial arts classes so he could learn to defend himself after the third time he'd come home with a busted lip or a black eye, and he'd kept it up because it was cathartic. He got to punch things and kick things and break things, all in a controlled environment where no one got hurt. It gave him a way to vent all the pent-up energy, all the rage and frustration that burned him up from the inside out, without "causing a scene" or getting him into trouble. 

That anger and frustration had only increased when he'd gotten into college and decided to pursue a Fine Arts major. Everyone from his parents to his therapist had a fucking melt-down about it. _Ben, you graduated top of your class! Ben, your SAT scores are so high! Ben, you could go to any college you want! Any major you want! Do anything! Be anything! Tests say you're gifted! So smart! Ben, why? Why would you do this? Such a waste!_ He tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles went white and the little wounds Hux had bandaged started to sting. A waste. Just because he wanted to create art instead of trying to cure cancer or something like that. As if art wasn't important. As if art wasn't the only thing that made life worth living, anyway. It still pissed him off, and he hated that there had always been a part of him that worried they were right. "I've spent enough time justifying my life choices to people, I sure as fuck am not going to try to justify them to you. So how about you just stop talking down to me and looking at me like I'm a fucking moron all the time, and I won't pull over and throw your ass out of the car! Sound reasonable?"

When several seconds passed with no response, he glanced over at Hux for his reaction. He looked slightly pale and frightened, but he was also scowling at him like he wanted to argue. The overall effect made him look like he was about to be sick and he was pretty angry about it. At least Hux had shut up, though, so maybe he could drive in peace for a few minutes. It was a small blessing, but the sun was coming up in a cloudless sky and the glare on the road was bound to make his headache 10 times worse, so he'd enjoy the small reprieve while it lasted. He really needed some coffee, but that seemed about as likely as a space ship full of friendly aliens coming to kindly rescue them from this zombie hell. He'd gladly settle for any form of caffeine he could find at the moment, though. Pills, energy drinks, anything. He'd eat straight coffee grounds at this point if he had to. Maybe if he stopped at the next convenient mart he saw he could find something.

Hux seemed to recover from whatever shock he'd gone into before long. He remained silent, but rummaged through the glove compartment until he found a decades-old road atlas that surely couldn't be anywhere close to accurate anymore. After that, Kylo could only assume he was pouring over it, trying to figure where the fuck they were. A few more miles down the road they finally came across a seedy-looking gas station with a little convenience store, and Kylo pulled into the lot. He could use a piss-break, anyway, and the dark inside the little building was bound to be better for the pain throbbing behind his eyes than the glare of the sun.

The door was, of course, locked, but he was able to break in easily enough with the use of the crowbar. Inside, the place looked virtually untouched, and it was stocked with far more supplies than they could possibly fit in the car. They could certainly load up on things they hadn't managed to find at the house, though. And water. As much water as they could carry. Common sense aside, he'd seen enough survival shows and dystopian bullshit movies to know that much. After a quick look around, he found a display of cheap tote bags and threw a couple of them at Hux, earning himself another glare. "Here, genius. Grab whatever looks useful. I'm gonna' take a piss." That earned him an upgrade from a glare to a sneer as he made his way back to the restroom.

Thankfully, the electricity was still intact when he flipped the switch. The harsh, fluorescent light that buzzed to life did nothing to improve his headache, but at least it was easier to make sure he wasn't tripping over zombies on his way to the toilet. The water was still running as well, almost ice cold coming out of the faucet as he washed his hands. It was a pleasant contrast to the heat outside, and he was just taking a moment to wet a paper towel and press it to his eyes, hoping to soothe the throbbing ache behind them, when he heard a shout and a clatter from the main shop floor. He hesitated, wanting desperately to ignore it, but he gave up with a sigh and flung the paper towel in the general direction of the trash can before stomping out of the bathroom.

The first thing he noticed were several shelves worth of items now scattered on the floor, followed by a continuous rattling sound coming from the area of the cash register, which was closed off with metal bars to protect cashiers from robbers and disorderly customers. When he made his way past the mess to see the cause of the noise, he found a single zombie caged in behind the counter, trapped with the cash register and all the over-the-counter drugs and tobacco products. Kylo lost himself for a moment pondering the exact circumstances as to how it had ended up there- _The place was spotless and locked up. Had the owner been bitten and locked himself in? Did someone even need to be bitten to turn into a zombie? Had he died from something else and turned into a zombie anyway? Or maybe someone had shoved a zombie in there, then cleaned up the place, locked up, as if to leave it as a trap for the next person who happened by?_ \- before he turned and noticed Hux pressed up against one of the shelves, his face white as a sheet and frozen in an expression that looked like he was stuck on an amusement park ride gone out of control.

So Hux had encountered another zombie, and he was once again being a complete fucking coward. Rage boiled up from the pit of Kylo's gut and coursed through his veins. "Holy shit! It's trapped, it can't even get to you! But I guess you're just gonna' go all useless and leave me to do all the work, right?" He bent down to snatch the tote bags from the floor where Hux had dropped them and started haphazardly shoving canned soup and packages of dried meat into them. "That's awesome! Get a fucking grip!"

When he looked at Hux again for a reaction he expected to see that nasty trademark sneer directed at him with Hux's face going red as he puffed up like an angry cat, ready to spit out an answering salvo of venomous insults. Instead, he found that Hux was still staring straight ahead, glassy eyed and pale, as though he hadn't even noticed Kylo was in the room. Now he was even shaking slightly and beginning to hyperventilate. Fuck. Apparently Hux was having a genuine episode of some kind and not just being a total wuss, and most of Kylo's anger cooled into a low simmer of annoyance at that realization. What the hell had he gotten himself into with this? Was he just going to be dragging Hux around like an anchor until they both ended up dead? Even if that was the case, he didn't think he could bring himself to ditch Hux to fend for himself no matter how much he hated him. He was a total asshole, but he was still... _something_. A familiar person who shared some memories with him of what his life used to be, even if those particular memories were pretty shitty. He wasn't sure why he felt so determined to cling to that. He could ditch Hux and try to find some other group where he could make up any back story he liked and be whoever he wanted, but no, he'd rather be stuck with his asshole former-boss for some reason.

Kylo heaved a sigh of irritation and dropped the half-full tote bags, then stood in front of Hux to block the zombie from his view. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on in Hux's head, but the zombie was an obvious trigger for it. "Hey. Come on. I'm taking you outside," he muttered, his tone much more patient and gentle than he was feeling at the moment. When he reached out to touch Hux's shoulder, Hux flinched away from him at first and his attention snapped sharply to Kylo's face. Kylo hoped his expression didn't give away too much of his annoyance, but whatever Hux saw there must have been at least somewhat comforting because he seemed to be calming down after that. He risked reaching out again then, and this time Hux allowed him to take his upper arm in a gentle grip and guide him toward the door. While he couldn't do much to mask the sounds the zombie was making, Kylo was at least careful to keep himself between it and Hux to block it from Hux's view as they walked.

Once they were outside, he lead Hux over to a small stack of wooden crates and had him sit down, much like he had done back in the garage when Hux had had a similar meltdown over the zombie in the driveway. It wasn't exactly safe outside, either, since more zombies might come wandering around the corner any minute, but the area around the front of the little convenience store was pretty open, so Kylo was fairly confident he would see any approaching zombies well before they reached them. He thought about locking Hux in the car so nothing could spontaneously attack him while he recovered, but all the horror stories he'd heard about people locking children or pets in their cars on a hot day stopped him. He couldn't be sure that Hux was with it enough to get out of the car if he was about to die from heatstroke or something. The fresh air outside would probably be better for clearing his head, anyway, so he left Hux there, sitting where he could see him through the front window, while he went back inside to gather more supplies.

It didn't take long to fill several tote bags with all the non-perishable food items he could find. Or at least the ones that were somewhat nutritious. There were several shelves packed full of candy and salty snacks, and while anything with calories would be helpful in an emergency, their space in the car was limited and a bag of chips took up four or five times as much space as a can of soup. Maybe if they ever found a place to settle for more than a night they'd have the space to pick up more, but for now he needed to focus on the essentials. Food, water, and medical supplies.

Speaking of medical supplies, he could really go for some fucking analgesics right about now, but he couldn't find so much as a bottle of antacids on the shelves. Apparently every scrap of medication and first-aid supplies was behind the counter with the zombie. Kylo could only imagine if Hux had been trying to reach over the counter for bandaids or some shit like that and the zombie might have grabbed him and scared the shit out of him. Jump-scares were bullshit anyway, but that would've been a hundred times worse since it was real and Hux's actual life would be in danger. Of course, he couldn't know if that was what happened unless Hux decided to talk to him about it, and Kylo wasn't sure if he cared enough to listen. All that mattered at the moment was killing the zombie so he could get to the medical supplies and they could get the hell out of there.

A quick screwdriver through the eye took care of the zombie with little trouble. Kylo tried not to be bothered by the idea that he was getting to be pretty efficient at killing these things as he then used the same screwdriver to break the lock on the little door leading back behind the counter. Once he was in he was a little disappointed that, with all this extra security for whoever would have been minding the store, there wasn't even a gun under the counter.

After kicking the zombie corpse aside, he was quick about loading another bag with bandages, disinfectants, and basic medicines. His hand hovered briefly over the condoms and lubricants, but he shook his head and grabbed a few more bottles of aspirin instead. It wasn't like there were high odds of running into anyone he might want to fuck running around out in the wilderness, anyway. With Hux around, he'd be lucky just to get a chance to jerk off one more time before he died without it being super awkward. Hux himself might have been mildly attractive if his face wasn't permanently set in an expression that looked like he was smelling rancid sushi, but even aside from that he couldn't imagine ever being desperate enough to fuck Hux, so condoms and lube were pointless. Aspirin, though. That was something that would come in handy. Like _right now_.

Kylo dropped the bag of medical supplies by the door with everything else he thought he might be able to cram into the car, then fumbled open one of the bottles of aspirin and grabbed a few energy drink cans out of the fridge section, which was still blessedly cold. He vaguely recalled hearing something about caffeine speeding up the process of getting medications into your system, and he needed the caffeine, anyway, so he shook a few aspirin tablets into his palm and downed the first energy drink as quickly as the carbonation would allow. God, it tasted awful. He'd always hated energy drinks, but these were desperate times. Hopefully both the caffeine and the pain killer would kick in before too long, and he could stop feeling like drilling a hole in his skull might be a good idea.

Hux seemed to have mostly recovered by the time Kylo went back outside, judging by the fact that he actually got up and helped Kylo carry things to the car and load them in the back. It was a tight fit, but they did manage to fit everything in. After that, Hux leaned against the car and stared mutely down at the ground while Kylo fought with the fuel pump to gas up the car. He glanced up at Hux, ready to snap at him to stop moping and feeling sorry for himself, but Hux didn't look like he was moping. His fists were clenched and he was scowling down at the concrete, his cheeks red with shame and internally-directed anger. Apparently Hux was doing a more than adequate job of beating himself up without Kylo's help, so he stayed quiet as he finished putting fuel in the car and climbed back into the driver's seat. Hux wordlessly got in next to him, buckling his seatbelt and staring resolutely ahead as Ren turned the ignition and pulled back out onto the road.  
*

*  
Hux must have fallen asleep again at some point, because the next thing he knew he was startled awake by the sound of the car door slamming as Ren got out of the car. They appeared to be on a poorly maintained gravel drive in the middle of a field full of uncomfortably tall grass, and he couldn't see the highway in any direction. Ren had opened the hatch in the back and was pulling out the bag of guns and ammo, and Hux had a sudden, irrational fear that Ren had driven him all the way out here to murder him. He took a few deep breaths to give his rational mind a chance to convince him of how ridiculous that was. Ren could have just as easily shot him anywhere along the highway, or just saved the ammo by leaving him to die at any point, or simply _not saved his life_ several times over. Then again, Ren didn't always act based on what was rational.

"Get out," Ren barked, startling Hux again as he walked to the front of the car and spread several guns out over the hood. 

As much as Hux still bristled at the idea of being given orders, he complied and went to stand next to Ren in front of the car. "What's all this?"

"We have a problem," Ren said vaguely, not even looking up at Hux as he methodically checked each gun to see that it was loaded and in proper condition.

Hux could feel the itch of annoyance creeping in behind his eyes. _No shit, we have several problems that I'm aware of_ , he wanted to scream, but he simply glared instead. "And which problem are you planning to address with this arsenal?"

"The problem," Ren said in a tone conveying the sense that he was explaining something plainly obvious to a toddler, "Is that you have no idea how to use a gun, and you're complete shit at melee combat because you go all useless any time a zombie gets anywhere near you."

Hux's shoulders went stiff and the telltale heat in his cheeks informed him that his face was flushed with embarrassment. Of course Ren would throw that in his face. The fact that he couldn't control his panic response was mortifying, and he was well aware it was likely to be the very thing that got him killed. "I do have _some idea_ how a gun works," he said, "It's a rather simple concept. And 'melee combat'- This isn't a _video game_ , Ren!"

"Yeah, no shit. Otherwise I wouldn't bother to save your ass. I'd just loot your corpse and sell your shit back to you for an exorbitant finder's fee when you respawned," Ren said offhandedly. Hux opened his mouth to retort, but all he managed to do was sputter unintelligently, so he closed it again and fixed Ren with a fresh glare. Ren sighed and shook his head as he put one gun down and picked up the next. "So for now, you need a way to defend yourself. And as for the other shit... we'll work on it," he added, his voice strangely gentle.

This shift in the dynamic between them was not at all to Hux's liking. To set things right, he desperately wanted to find some flaw in the situation so he could point it out and feel superior again, but he came up with nothing. He wanted to complain that firing a gun would attract any zombies in the area, but Ren had stopped them in the middle of an open field with hundreds of yards of open space in all directions, so they'd easily be able to see and pick off anything that came their way. Regardless of how much he wanted to protest, he couldn't deny that Ren was, for once, being perfectly logical, and it would be advantageous to both of them if he learned to use a gun. Aside from that, Ren's earlier threat to leave him behind was still heavy in the back of his mind like an imminent storm on the horizon. It felt like a certainty that, unless they were able to find more survivors to join up with, Ren would eventually ditch him to fend for himself. Alternately, Ren might do something stupid and end up getting himself killed, which would effectively be the same thing.

But Ren had been surprisingly understanding of his panic issues so far, and the offer to help him work though those issues was an unexpected kindness. He couldn't imagine what Ren could possibly do to help, but he wasn't foolish enough to turn down the offer. If he could just make himself cooperate for a while longer, he only stood to gain from it. Maybe he could at least pick up some vital skills to stay alive a while longer.

Ren ignored him as he finished checking over the various guns splayed across the hood of the car, which Hux found almost as irritating as being bossed around. Once finished, the guns lined up precisely across the hood, Ren collected a few empty food tins from the back of the car. “I’m gonna’ put these on that stump over there. _Do not_ touch the guns until I get back, and am standing behind you.”

Hux scoffed, insulted. “I think I can manage not to accidentally shoot you for a few seconds. I’m not a complete fool.” Ren looked at him then, locking eyes in an uncomfortably intense stare, and he came to the sudden realization that Ren didn’t trust him, either.

He tried to wrap his mind around that as he watched Ren take a couple backward steps toward the stump before finally turning his back to walk the rest of the way. It seemed so ridiculous when he was the one who had followed Ren in the first place. If he’d thought he could survive on his own, why the hell would he have put himself in this position!? After all he’d done to try to help, and he _owed his life_ to Ren, still Ren apparently didn’t trust him not to spontaneously murder him!? That was honestly even more insulting than Ren thinking he’d be stupid enough to accidentally shoot him, and by the time Ren walked back to the car Hux was quietly seething.

Ren picked up the first gun, some small model of handgun, and met Hux’s gaze again as he offered it to him. Hux took it and pointed it toward the stump without instruction, lined one of the cans up with the sight, then utterly failed to fire the gun. He was struggling to pull what he assumed was an especially stubborn trigger when a firm hand gripped his shoulder. “Stop. Just, _stop_.” Hux had a sudden fear that Ren was going to press against him from behind and reach around to show him the _proper_ way to shoot like a scene from a movie where the Big Strong Man has to show the poor helpless woman how to do something. He viciously kicked the small bit of his subconscious that pointed out that Ren was very broad and fit and the wind was uncomfortably cold compared to the heat of the day before, so it might actually feel rather nice to have him pressed against his back like that. That bit of him was disappointed, anyway, when Ren simply took the gun out of his grip and clicked a small switch on the side before handing it back, muttering, “Safety.”

Hux felt himself go red as humiliation doused his previous frustration with a bucket of ice water. He could feel Ren’s watchful gaze on his back like a sunburn as he took a slow breath and squared his shoulders, nursing what small amount of dignity he had left. The gun was going to kick, he knew that much, and he tried to brace himself for it as he lined up the sight with the leftmost can and pulled the trigger. The kick was a bit more than he’d expected, but he felt like he managed it well enough. The shot was off, though, and he hit the center can instead. He wasn’t sure if the kick had thrown him off, or the gun itself was off, or wind had interfered, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Fucking serious? I thought you said you’d never used a gun before,” Ren said, stepping forward into Hux’s peripheral vision to glower at him.

Hux lowered the gun to return Ren’s glare. “I haven’t.”

Ren was clearly unconvinced. “That was your first time shooting a gun, and you hit the target. On your very first shot.”

“That wasn’t the one I was trying to hit. I was aiming for the one on the left.”

“Oh, okay, you missed by like _6 inches_ , then.”

“ _Apparently!_ Why are you so angry about it!?”

Ren just stared at him with his brow furrowed, lips bitten into a thin line and something calculating in his eyes, then he shook his head and gestured sharply toward the stump. "Try it again, then."

Anger was creeping in behind Hux's eyes again, but he stared ahead at the stump rather than at Ren and took another slow breath to push it down. Having a task to focus on had always helped calm his nerves. He completely missed on his next shot, but he adjusted and tried again. With the next two shots he managed to hit the last two cans and the familiar but nearly forgotten sensation of _achievement_ settled warmly into his chest, expanding to sooth away the tight, invisible grip on his lungs. Suddenly he felt like he was breathing properly again for the first time since this whole mess started.

Ren didn't offer any comment. He simply marched out to the stump and reset the cans, then picked up the next gun and traded it for the one in Hux's hand. "Do it again."

The complete lack of any sort of acknowledgment of his skills from Ren dampened his pride somewhat, but what did it matter whether Ren was impressed? He lifted the second gun, some sort of rifle with no safety mechanism as far as he could tell, and sighted his target down the long barrel. The kick was worse on this one, and it took more concentration to hold it steady because it was so much heavier, but within five shots he'd cleared all the targets again.

The process repeated until Hux had tested each of the guns. It reminded him of the archery lessons he'd taken as an extracurricular at the private school. He'd had no real interest in archery, but he signed up for every extracurricular class he could fit into his schedule to bulk up his resume for college, and he was surprised to find that he was actually good at it. This was so much better, though. Cleaner, more mechanical, with so much less room for human error between aiming and firing. His favorite was one of the rifles, but it only held a single shot and reloading after every shot would be a problem. He'd need more practice to learn to do it quickly. This would give him a chance, though. Building physical strength and learning how to fight had their limitations, and both took time he didn't have to develop, but this skill changed things immediately.

The last gun Ren handed him was an honest-to-god revolver like something out of a western, and after missing with his first shot he adjusted accordingly and cleared the targets with the next three. He smirked to himself, a little burst of long-lost confidence flickering to life somewhere in him. Then, when he turned to hand the gun back to Ren, he saw movement in the tall grass by the car. 

A rotting hand reached out of the thick foliage and clamped around Ren's ankle, then a waxy, emaciated face followed it. All the air rushed out of Hux's lungs and tore through his throat in a shout, but he heard nothing other than the ringing of terror in his ears. Ren stumbled in surprise and the thing pulled him down, hauling itself toward him with its wet, black mouth open wide. But then, before Hux even had time to think about what to do, it was over. The zombie lay still, half its head now missing, and Ren was kicking it away and scrambling back to his feet. Hux looked down at the gun in his hand. He didn't even remember feeling the kick of firing it, but he could still feel the residual tingle in his palms from it and he was out of bullets now.

Ren brushed himself off and kicked the thing once more for good measure, then turned to look at Hux. His eyebrow raised and his lips twisted into a weird, lopsided half-grin that showed his teeth as he muttered something that the receding hum of panic rendered unintelligible. Hux shook his head slightly to clear the rest of it away. "What?"

"You said 'fuck.'" Ren sounded almost jovial about it. "I was starting to think you didn't even know that word."

Hux gaped at Ren, his eyes wide and incredulous, then something snapped and he was in Ren's face, one hand fisted in his filthy t-shirt. "OF COURSE I KNOW THAT WORD, I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO YOU FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!" He shoved at Ren's brick wall of a chest hard enough that he actually made him stumble backward slightly. "You almost FUCKING DIED!"

Any trace of humor slid off of Ren's face then, returning it to the perpetual dull glare it had settled into for the last several days. "Yeah, well. Wouldn't have been the worst thing to happen to me this week," he muttered through clenched teeth, then he snatched the empty gun away from Hux before turning back to the car to pack away the weapons. All the venomous words Hux had been preparing to spit into Ren's face dried on his tongue then as he watched Ren load everything back into the car and climb into the driver's seat. "Come on. It's getting dark, and I don't wanna' fucking sleep out here."

Hux sighed and walked the long way around to the other side of the car so he wouldn't have to step over the corpse. He slid into the passenger's seat and thought briefly of the cans out in the field he'd been using as targets. A nagging guilt about _recycling_ and _littering_ popped into the back of his mind, but he firmly punched it down. It hardly seemed like that sort of thing mattered now. He glanced over at Ren, who was currently staring down at the steering wheel. "I could drive if you wanted to sleep. I _do_ know how to drive."

Ren just glared at him, then grabbed the keys and started the car. Hux sighed again and rolled his eyes as Ren turned the car around, seeming to purposely run over the dead zombie in the process, then headed back down the gravel drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter still feels clunky to me, but I tried. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. No Rest for the Weary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys search for a place to call home.

They really needed to figure out a better place to sleep than in the car. Maybe it wouldn't have been quite so bad, but the back of the car was so full of supplies and other necessary things that they couldn't even recline the front seats all the way. It was bad enough that he couldn't fully stretch his legs out, but combining that with sitting almost upright made it nearly impossible for Kylo to actually fall asleep. When he _did_ sleep, he woke up stiff and sore with cramps in his legs and neck. It felt to risky to try sleeping on the hard floor inside a store or a seemingly abandoned house, though. Those could be seen from the road, and he didn't like the thought that someone might come in looking for supplies and find them defenseless while they slept. At least he could hide the car somewhere off the road, where no one would find them unless they happened to be walking through the woods in the middle of the night. Not that they'd encountered anyone else yet, but he'd seen signs of them. Roadside convenience stores picked over for food and medical supplies, broken locks, hastily scrawled warnings on walls, and bodies. Lots of bodies. Even aside from the zombies, both active and permanently incapacitated, he'd seen more dead bodies in the past few days than he'd ever expected to see in his entire lifetime. If it bothered Hux the same way he was hiding it pretty well, but then Hux had always looked a little anxious and disturbed when he wasn't sneering and being a little shit.

Every time he entered a house saturated with the reek of death, he tried not to look around at anything other than supplies they could use. He didn't want to see it as a place where normal people had once lived normal lives becuase then he might start putting the pieces together of what had happened to them. How things had played out between "then" and "now." Sometimes he couldn't help it, though. His eye would catch on little details and connect the dots to draw him a haunting picture of a family torn to shreds while they scrambled for safety. The worst was when there were signs of young kids among all the mess. In one house he'd seen a little white sneaker in the hallway with a rusty colored smudge on the toe and he couldn't make himself go any further inside. He was sure he didn't want to know what else was in that house, and it was all he could do not to let himself speculate about it.

Maybe it was good that he hadn't really been able to sleep. At least it meant his subconscious hadn't been given free reign to parade all of its awful imaginings through his dreams.

That was providing it's own set of problems, though. He could keep himself functioning well enough during the day with caffeine pills he'd scavenged from a truck stop, but he knew he couldn't rely on that for long. Caffeine was no substitute for actual rest and it was starting to take its toll, probably because he'd already been too dependant on it to work a night job and still make it to professor Snoke's morning classes. All the muscles in his neck and shoulders were stiff and achy, his hands were starting to shake, his head throbbed, and his eyes felt gritty and raw as if someone had rubbed a fist full of sand into the sockets behind them. If he was lucky, he hoped he might be exhausted enough to just pass out one night for several hours of solid, dreamless, uninterrupted sleep, but he doubted it would be that simple. Even if it was, he'd feel like hell in the morning from sleeping for so many hours at once in the car. He had no idea how Hux was managing it, since they were both about the same height.

He glanced over at Hux to find that he appeared to be dozing off again, and that pissed him off. He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to slam on the breaks just to see Hux violently flung forward against the restraint of his seat belt, deciding instead that maybe yelling was better. "How the _fuck_ can you sleep like that!?"

Hux started fully awake, bolting upright in his seat, which was at least a little satisfying. The face he made at Kylo was somewhere between a wince and a glare as he shifted his shoulders to stretch the muscles in his neck. "It's not my fault you can't sleep unless conditions are just perfect for you," he snapped. "I got used to it when I was a kid. We spent a lot of time in the car when I was young. Road trips, you know." 

Something about the way he threw "road trips" in there as an explanation made Kylo think "homeless," but he didn't press because it was none of his damned business. He didn't feel like listening to Hux's tragic backstory at the moment. "Good for you. I'm so glad your shitty childhood gave you an advantage in post-apocalyptic zombie world."

"I never said it was shitty."

"Everyone's childhood is shitty, and no little kid likes road trips. Kids hate being in the car for more than ten minutes at a time. Anything more than that is like torture, and I feel sorry for any kid who had to endure one road trip, let alone several." Kylo had plenty of miserable road trip memories, mostly of his parents arguing in the front seat, only pausing to occasionally yell at him in the back seat. His best road trip memory was the time he got food poisoning from some shady roadside diner and they had to cut the trip short and go home. Leia had sat in the back with him and let him lay across the seat with his head in her lap while Han drove and cast concerned glances at them in the rearview mirror. Actually, when he thought about it, that might have been his best vacation memory over all.

Hux turned toward him and his voice took on that irritating nasal quality it got when he was really pissed. "My childhood was not 'shitty.' My mother sacrificed and did everything she could to give me the best life she could manage, and I'm not going to sit here and let you have a go at her when you have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I wasn't 'having a go' at your mother, I was making a general statement ab- _OH MY GOD!_ " Kylo turned so sharply onto an exit that the car almost skidded off the road while Hux shouted and clung for his life to the door handle and the front edge of the dashboard. He'd seen the sign a little way back, but he'd been too distracted arguing with Hux to really put together what it meant. There was a strip mall just off the exit, visible from the highway, and he pulled into the parking lot hoping there hadn't been hundreds of exhausted travelers ahead of him with the same idea. He stopped in the middle of the lot in front of a mattress store and got out to look in the window. The lights were all out so he couldn't see much, but the door was still locked and seemed untouched. Maybe this was finally a stroke of good luck. Obviously he couldn't take a bed with them, but at least maybe they could take a break from driving and he could get enough rest to get him through the next few days.

When he returned to the car, Hux was looking pale(r than usual) and gaping at him with an expression that he couldn't quite discern. Something like incredulous terror, maybe. Whatever it was, it made him look ridiculous. He took a few weird, open-mouthed breaths that reminded Kylo of that stink-face cats makes when they're scenting something, then he scrambled clumsily to take off his seatbelt and stumbled out of the car. "Please tell me you didn't almost KILL US just so you could go to a _MATTRESS STORE!_ "

"I didn't almost kill us, I know how to drive! There aren't even any other cars on the road, calm the fuck down!" Kylo snapped as he yanked the back door open and grabbed the old, pilled fleece blanket he'd been using. It was way too fucking small, but with limited space in the car he couldn't exactly justify bringing a bulky king-sized duvet. "I'm gonna' break in there and sleep for several hours. I don't care what the hell you do. Go break into the electronics store and build a deathray or something." He rummaged in the back seat a little more until he found the crowbar, then turned and left Hux sputtering behind him. After a few steps, though, he turned back to toss the car keys to Hux. "And move the car behind the building or something. Somewhere it's not visible from the road."

Hux gaped at him again, still dumbfounded and furious as the keys bounced off his chest without him even trying to catch them. Kylo rolled his eyes and resumed his path toward the mattress store, accompanied by the sound of Hux grumbling something about deathrays being unrealistic.

The door to the mattress store was thankfully only held closed by a single deadbolt lock. Why wouldn't it be? After all, who would try to steal mattresses under normal circumstances? It was simple enough to bend the aluminum frame with the crowbar just enough to pop the deadbolt loose. He'd done it several times already since the start of their little survival road trip, but it was proving difficult as his tired mind drifted over situations wherein someone might be inclined to steal a mattress and he lost his grip on the crowbar, the leaver force sending it flying mere centimeters from his face. He blinked a few times before his brain caught up with what had just happened, then cursed to himself as he picked up the crowbar and struggled to focus on the task at hand. Either this was a particularly stubborn door frame or his body was even more fatigued than he'd realized, but a few more attempts had it open, regardless.

Once he was inside, the darkness and the cool air were such an immediate relief that he almost forgot to be cautious as he made his way through aisle after aisle of display mattresses and bedroom furniture. The further he went into the store, though, the more ludicrous it seemed that he had been the first one to think of breaking in here, but after a full lap around the sales floor there were still no signs of any other survivors. When he finally picked a bed near the back of the store, well away from the sunlight streaming in through the windows, he thought he might cry just from the relief of being able to stretch out and lie down for the first time after so long. Maybe he could convince Hux that they should live here. It might not be the most secure location; or have any supplies or tools; or be a good place to gather or store water, food, and fuel; but. Beds.

If Hux didn't ditch his ass here, of course. He'd given him the keys. Hux could easily decided he was fed-up with him and leave him behind, taking the car and all the supplies with him.

Suddenly part of him was confident that he would go outside after he woke to find himself stranded in this shitty little strip mall with who knows how many miles between himself and the nearest source of food or water. He should have moved the car himself and kept the keys with him. He was probably going to die here, all because he wanted a fucking nap. 

Kylo was so busy mentally berating himself that he didn't notice when his body gave in to sleep and his conscious thoughts floated into a series of unsettling dreams, full of random faces from his former life.

_A handsome, dark-haired man he recognized as one of the coffee shop's regulars ran through a street crowded with wrecked cars and bodies. He was carrying something small tucked in the crook of his arm and shouting for help as every corpse he passed reached for him, trying to pull him down-_

_That annoying girl from professor Kanata's sculpture class who was always barging in on his studio time with her stupid "found object" art was breaking into his apartment only to find it full of living dead that poured out through the door as soon as it was opened. The irritatingly cheerful barista from the morning shift clutched at her hand and they ran-_

_Professor Snoke leaned over his shoulder, crowding into his personal space, too close, breathing in his ear in an incredibly unsettling way while he tried to work on his project. There was a light touch on his shoulder and he turned to find professor Snoke's face close to his, but the features were twisted and asymmetrically mangled, eyes sunken, mouth drawn into a terrifying grin that oozed something black and viscous-_

_His uncle Luke stood at the edge of a cliff face, looking out at a vibrant blue sky full of perfect, cottony clouds stretched over a blood red sea. Carrion birds clustered on the rocks below as every wave washed entrails onto the shore-_

_His father stood with his back to him, then when he turned his face was ruined, blood on his hands, on his lips. He looked at him with disappointment in his death-clouded eyes, or maybe it was sadness. "Ben-"_

Kylo woke suddenly with his pulse hammering away so heavily in his throat that he struggled just to breathe for a few moments. He stared blankly up at the industrial tile ceiling for a few minutes while his brain tried to make sense of where he was and his heart rate slowed to a normal rate. Mattress shop. Right. He had no clue how long he'd been asleep, but it was too dark for it to still be daylight outside. At least he seemed to be safe for now, though. He was just starting to remember his fear that Hux had stranded him when he heard a soft sound of rustling fabric and he jerked his head to the side to see what had made it.

Someone, visible even in the dark against the stark white of the mattress, was laying in the next bed over. Somehow he recognized the shape of him immediately. Hux. Apparently he hadn't abandoned him. Relief unspooled inside him like a released spring and for a moment it bothered him that he was so pleased to see Hux, of all people. But, of course, it wasn't really about Hux. It was about finding out he hadn't been left to fend for himself with no transportation or supplies. There was still a traitorous flicker of gratefulness, though, that Hux had decided to stay despite how admittedly shitty Kylo had been to him. Not that he didn't still think it was well deserved. Hux must be really desperate not to be alone to stick around with someone he obviously hated so much.

"Are you awake?" Hux's voice was at a whisper, but even that was a jarring break in the stifling silence of the store.

"Yeah," Kylo whispered in return, then grimaced at himself, feeling like an idiot for whispering like a kid at a sleepover when there was probably no one to hear him for miles. He cleared his throat and spoke again at a normal volume, "I'm awake."

"You slept nearly 12 hours. I was beginning to think you were dead." Hux had raised his voice to average volume as well. There was another soft rustling sound, and Kylo could just make out the movement of Hux sitting up in the dark.

"I'm sure that would have been a relief."

Hux made a sort of cough-tsk noise that was difficult to define when he couldn't read his face, then he went quiet again for a few moments. "I found something at the garden shop at the end of the strip. An address. And I think I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

"If we're lucky, maybe an idea for a more long-term place we could stay. If we're unlucky, at least it should be a decent place to find a few tools and possibly fuel, so it might not be a total waste either way."

Kylo let out a noncommittal hum and shifted to lay on his side, reveling anew in the soft, bouncy comfort of the mattress. "Will there be beds there?" That juvenile sleep-over feeling hadn't completely abated, and he hated how he both felt and sounded mildly like a child asking if there would be ice cream in heaven.

There was another rustle and a soft _whump_ sound as the dark Hux-shape flopped back onto its own mattress again. "I doubt it," he said, sounding genuinely dismayed. "But surely we can come up with a better arrangement than sleeping in the car. It's not like I actually enjoy that, either."

Ren sighed, which turned into a yawn as he shivered slightly and pulled his ratty little fleece blanket around his shoulders. "I guess," he muttered. "Not like we have anywhere else to be."  
*

*  
When the sun rose, Hux woke to find Ren's dark eyes staring at him from across the small gap between their beds. He supposed it should have been unsettling to think that Ren might have been watching him sleep for god-only-knows how long, but Ren had woken before him every morning since they'd started travelling together and waking up next to him was becoming commonplace. The only thing that made this different was that they were both horizontal and facing each other instead of sitting up side-by-side. Still, it bothered him that he _wasn't_ bothered by this. It should be awkward at the very least, but Ren was looking more comfortable and relaxed than he could remember ever seeing him since the day they met, and it was sort of nice to see him that way.

Hux rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes, trying very hard not to think about that, or the way the combination of Ren's rumpled, wavy hair and glinting deep-set eyes made him think of a sleepy spaniel puppy. _God, he must be going mad-_

The sliding sound of fabric on fabric alerted him that Ren was moving, and he opened his eyes again to see Ren on his feet, meticulously folding his sad excuse for a blanket. "Now that you're awake, give me the keys. My mouth tastes like something died in it, and I wanna' brush my teeth."

Hux groaned and dug the keys out of his pocket, offering them to Ren, who took them and headed for the front door without so much as a "thank you." Just for that, Hux decided he wouldn't let Ren know that the mattress shop had a back entrance and the car was parked just outside it. If he's going to be an ass, let him walk around the entire shop complex and find the car on his own.

Since he wouldn't be able to get into the car himself until Ren found it and unlocked it, he was in no rush, so he took his time lazing about for a few minutes longer. Staring at the ceiling, which was comforting in how boring it was, he ran his hands over his face, scratching through the stubble on his cheeks which was so thick now he may as well admit it was a full beard. God, he needed a shave. And a bath. He was so tired of being filthy and wearing the same clothes day after day. Thankfully, after days in the car marinating in body odor he seemed to have gone nose-blind to that specific smell, but he was sure they both stank horribly. Also, he was pretty sure there were still bits of died blood in his hair, and that made him cringe every time he thought about it.

He finally decided to get up when his stomach growled. He was well accustomed to skipping meals due to his chronic lack of funds over the last few years, but now he ate when Ren ate, which was almost always three times a day. The irritating thing about that was, now that his body was becoming accustomed to regular meals, the effects of hunger somehow felt more acute and pronounced than they had been when he was practically starving on daily basis. With Ren being unconscious for most of the previous day, Hux hadn't thought to eat without him, which meant he hadn't eaten in around 24 hours and his stomach was now cramping unpleasantly. Now he was starting to regret not getting up before and telling Ren about the back door. He could have been eating breakfast by now.

That was another thing about Ren that he'd been surprised and impressed with. He'd expected to fight Ren over careful consumption of supplies, but Ren had been meticulous about rationing their food and water from the start. Ren kept careful stock of what they had and how many days it would last them, and at mealtimes he split everything evenly with Hux. Considering that Ren's energy needs were surely higher than his own, Hux thought that was unusually generous.

Everything about Ren seemed unusually generous, apart from his attitude. He saved Hux's life several times, he kept Hux alive and made sure he was fed and hydrated, he gave Hux a gun to carry to protect himself, and he continually refused to leave Hux behind, regardless of how much better off he'd be without Hux draining his resources. It was all very strange, considering they'd barely exchanged more than a few words with one another that weren't laced with contempt. He wasn't sure what Ren was getting out of this partnership of theirs, but it felt incredibly unbalanced.

Hux gathered the few things he'd brought in with him (a water bottle and his gun,) and stood. He tucked his gun into his belt and thought how he really should try to find a holster for it. Carrying it in his pocket or his belt all the time just seemed terribly unsafe.

When he walked out the back door he found Ren leaning against the side of the car, brushing his teeth. Ren glowered at him over his mouth full of toothpaste, then took a carefully measured sip of water to rinse and spit off to the side before snarling at him. "Asshole."

Hux smirked and shrugged. "If you'd bothered to wait a moment, or asked where the car was, maybe you wouldn't have had to walk a quarter-mile to get to it."

"That doesn't absolve you of being an asshole."

"I don't recall asking for absolution," Hux replied smugly, and he wandered around to the passenger's side of the car to find his own toothbrush. Ren ignored Hux while he brushed his teeth and got into the food supplies to ponder their breakfast options. Hux suggested they have double rations, as neither of them had eaten since breakfast the previous day, to which Ren agreed after noting that Hux added several more items to their small stockpile while he'd been sleeping. They ate in silence after that, and Hux had never in his life imagined that he'd ever relish having an entire tin of Spam to himself, but so he was.

Ren diligently packed away their empty tins once they were both finished. "So you have an address? Do you actually know how to get to this address? 'Cause I'm not a fucking GPS."

"Yes, I actually can tell the difference, despite the fact that you also constantly try to tell me where to go and what to do." Hux replied. Ren cast him a very unimpressed look at that, and Hux sighed heavily. "I have looked at enough road maps and atlases that I am reasonably sure of where we are, and where we need to go to get to this address."

"Okay. Guess that makes _you_ the GPS, then."

Hux rolled his eyes and got into the car, hoping Ren wouldn't fight him over every turn.

As it turned out, Ren actually took driving instructions rather well. Or perhaps he was in a particularly cooperative mood now that he was rested. Either way, Hux was glad that it was going so smoothly. For his part, he'd managed to find a few maps of the area in one of the shops that seemed to be accurate enough to do the trick. At least they hadn't steered them wrong yet.

He tried not to get too nostalgic as he was following the map and watching for landmarks and road signs. His mother had given him this responsibility as soon as he'd learned to read, and he'd loved it. It gave him something to do during all the hours on the road, and he got to help. After all his mother did and sacrificed for him, it was a way he could give back to her, even if it wasn't much. She called him her navigator, and he'd been so proud when she'd said it.

Hux blinked back the slight sting of forming tears. This was precisely the sort of thing he needed to avoid. He forced his attention back to the map. They were getting close, and he really needed to focus or they'd miss their turn.

They turned off of the highway a couple more miles down the road, but Hux almost missed the turn even though he was looking for it. It was a gravel road, with the weeds growing up around it. If it hadn't been for the sign and a what appeared to be an industrial mail box Hux wouldn't have seen it at all, and even those indicators were partly obscured by tall grass and low tree branches.

They drove down the twisting gravel road, and then they found it. Ren stopped the car and Hux got out to look over the plant nursery. It was bigger than he'd expected for a private nursery, but considering that they were apparently supplying nearby retailers it was no surprise. There were awnings and greenhouses and a wide stretch of open land, all filled with neat rows of plants that were either dying or becoming overgrown due to lack of care. The main area of operation, where the all the equipment storage buildings and green houses were, was surrounded by a chain-link fence and, Hux's heart sank, several dozen zombies were wandering around inside. Far more than he would have expected on this sort of property. That was it, then. This trip had been for nothing. He looked over at Ren, fully expecting to be berated for wasting time, but instead Ren was looking over the facility with a thoughtful expression. "So, what do you think? There's 20 or 30 of them?... We can draw them over to the fence, and then kill them through the chain-link. I bet we could get most of them that way, then we can go in to have a look around and pick off any stragglers."

Hux's heart hammered in his throat at the thought of being so close to so many zombies. Of course they'd be on the other side of a fence and wouldn't be able to get to him, but it was still much too close for comfort. He bit the inside of his lip as he struggled to reason with instincts that told him to run far, far away from this entire situation. "I'm not sure it's worth the effort. Or the danger."

"They're behind a fence. And they're slow. It might be dangerous if all of them were pressing against the same part of the fence at once, but as long as we kill them before too many can build up in one spot, the fence should be able to hold them, no problem." Ren looked at him then, and Hux felt he was being sized-up and judged for cowardice. "You've killed a few of them yourself already. You can handle this. If it's too much, we can split up and scatter them out a little, then take a break and regroup."

That was... absolutely not the response Hux was expecting. He blinked a few times in confusion, his eyes following Ren as he went to the back of the car and collected several suitable weapons for the task.

"You better not wuss out, anyway, because I'm pretty sure this is at least a 2-person job, and if you ditch me to do it by myself we'll probably get fucking killed. So woman-up, jackass."

Ah. That was much more like what he'd come to expect. He felt his lip curling into a very familiar sneer as he caught the sharpened wooden mop handle that Ren tossed to him. "If you still expect me to refrain from talking down to you, then I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call me a girl as an insult. Obviously you aren't the first, it's hardly original, but it's sexist."

"Yeah, I'm so worried about offending all _zero_ of the girls we've encountered. Anyway, I wasn't. Girls are bad-ass. I'm surprised we haven't run into a pack of dystopian warrior ladies like fucking Mad Max, roving around killing zombies and taking absolutely no shit from anyone." Ren looked down then, focusing on tucking a couple of screw drivers into his pocket in such a way that they wouldn't stab him in the leg when he walked, and his tone was more subdued when he spoke again. "It's impossible not to respect women after growing up with my mother."

Hux narrowed his eyes, irritation prickling at the back of his neck. "I didn't realize you-"

"Stop talking now," Ren interrupted without even looking at him and turned to walk toward the fence, hefting the crowbar in his right hand and a knife in his left.

Rage flared up inside him, but it was quickly pushed aside by anxiety as, looking down at the makeshift spear in his hand, Hux suddenly felt incredibly unprepared and ill-equipped for what they were about to do. Of course he had his gun, but that would be too loud and bullets were a limited resource not to be wasted. He scrambled to pick up a few more weapons and, thankfully, there was no shortage of screw drivers in the toolbox they'd taken from Ren's parents' garage. He grabbed the two longest ones and a hammer before hurrying after Ren.

By the time he caught up with Ren at the fence, there were already a few zombies gathered in front of him on the other side. He was immediately glad he had the mop-handle spear, so he wouldn't have to stand as close to the fence to kill them. His heart still raced at the sight of them so close, and the panic was certainly still there, but it didn't overwhelm him like it did before. It helped that the zombies were contained and he was approaching them on his own terms. It also helped that Ren was right beside him, but he let himself pretend that was only comforting because the zombies were more likely to go after Ren as the bigger target, not because he trusted Ren to protect him.

He couldn't take his eyes off the gurgling, dead creatures in front of him, but he saw movement of Ren turning his head to look at him in his peripheral vision. "When we start making noise over here, it'll draw the rest of them over. They're slow, though, so hopefully we can kill them faster than they pile up."

"I understand the principal, Ren. I'm not an idiot."

"Just thought I'd give you a minute to get ready before we get started, but if you're ready to go-" Without any further warning Ren plunged his knife into the rotting skull of the nearest of the zombies pressing themselves against the fence. 

Hux jumped at the sudden violence, even though it wasn't unexpected. "I didn't say I was ready! I just meant-"

"Too late. Can't stop now. Feel free to keep yelling, though. Your irritating, nasal voice is really drawing their attention." Ren drew his knife back and let the first one slump to the ground, properly dead at last, then he plunged the knife into the next one. Hux looked out across the open area inside the fence and saw that most of the zombies in view were, indeed, heading their way already. Ren moved on to his third kill as the next couple of zombies reached the fence, crowding in on top of their fallen peers. "You can start helping any time now."

Swallowing down the panic that gripped his throat, Hux shifted the spear in his hands and aimed it through a hole in the chain-link right at eye-level with an approaching zombie. He braced himself as it drew closer, and drove the spear into its eye-socket just as it reached the fence. The impact against the spear, the squelching sound of rotting flesh, the smell, all of it grated at Hux's senses, sending signals of horror and revulsion to his brain and his instincts screamed at him to stop, run, hide, get as far away from this as possible. He fought against them and stood his ground, though, even though it made his hands shake and his eyes sting to do so.

Hux pulled back on his spear, but it stuck in place. It seemed to have caught on something in the corps's skull, so he pulled the zombie's dead weight hard against the fence until something gave and it came loose with an awful, wet noise that made his skin crawl. While he fought to keep down the bile rising in his throat, Ren was beside him stabbing his fifth zombie victim, seemingly unphased by it all. "God, how does this not bother you?"

"Easy," Ren yanked back his knife and paused a moment to let the next zombie push forward, stumbling over the growing pile of corpses and falling against the fence only for Ren to plunge his knife into its temple. "These aren't people. They're not even animals. It's not even as bad as swatting a fly, because they're not actually alive at all. It's just rotten meat. Whoever they used to be is long gone, and I'm doing them a service by putting their bodies to rest so they can't harm anyone else."

Hux instinctively wanted to say something scathing in response. Maybe mock Ren's romantic notion that he was apparently doing something noble by killing these things rather than just eliminating a threat. He supposed Ren had a point, though. The notion of his body as an empty, rotting shell, stumbling around and tearing people apart for days, weeks, or even years after his death was too disturbing to consider. Hopefully someone like Ren would put a quick end to him if it came to that.

After his third kill, it seemed to be getting easier. He wasn't sure if what Ren said had sunk in and made him feel better about it, or if he was just growing desensitized. Either way, after a couple more he decided that the spear was a bit long and cumbersome to wield for this purpose, so he switched to one of the screwdrivers and stuck to his method of stabbing through the eye-sockets. The screwdriver was much faster, easier to aim through the holes in the fence, and it pulled back out much more smoothly. If he had trouble driving it in far enough, he found that a hard tap on the end with the hammer did the trick. They moved slowly along the fence to keep the accumulating bodies from blocking the way for the others approaching, and while he could never say what he was doing was enjoyable, he could at least say it was starting to feel less frightening and more routine. He doubted he could ever fully get used to this, though.

What seemed like hours later, Ren finally finished off the last straggler with the crowbar, having lost his knife on the other side of the fence several kills back. Hux leaned back against a tree to catch his breath and looked down at the screwdriver in his hand, unsure what to do with it now. He sure as hell didn't want to put it back in is pocket now that it was covered in rancid goo, but then again he had quite a bit of that on his hands as well. God, he'd never in his life wanted a shower so badly. Aside from the lingering bits of Jen's blood in his hair that still made him want to gag every time he thought about them, he was pretty sure there were now microscopic flecs of rotten bone and brain all over him. Maybe with the right tools and materials he could build a shower, and then one day he might get to be blissfully clean again for at least five minutes before some other disgusting thing happened. For now, though, he was sorely tempted to throw the screwdriver out into the woods somewhere, just to get it away from him. They had plenty of screw drivers. It wasn't like they actually needed this one, was it? "Why does the tool box have approximately 17 screwdrivers, but not a single fucking pair of pliers? Who doesn't keep pliers in their toolbox?"

"My dad, apparently. You wanna' fight about parents again?" The look in Ren's eye was daring Hux to say _just one more thing_ , but Hux was tired and filthy and he really didn't have the energy to fight, so he just sighed and shook his head. Satisfied with that, Ren turned and walked back along the fence toward the gate. "Let's get inside and find out if we've wasted our time."

The gate was held shut by an unexpectedly sophisticated lock, but it was no match for Ren, who had it broken open with a few skillful twists of the crowbar. The ease with which Ren always broke through locked doors had Hux wondering if he had a criminal history of breaking and entering. In either case, it didn't really matter now. He was just lucky that Ren had this skill and seemed eager to use it. Not that Hux couldn't do it himself, of course, but it never seemed to go quite as smoothly for him, so he was glad he usually didn't have to.

They brought the car in through the gate, and Hux secured it shut again with a scrap of wire before they began their walk-through and evaluation of the facility. A quick check of the perimeter revealed that a section of the fence had been knocked down. That explained how so many zombies had gotten in. They'd probably wandered in through the gap, and failed to find their way back out. So much for securing the gate.

He let Ren walk in front of him as they made their way from one end of the facility to the other, inspecting the plants and looking over the equipment. There was a rainwater collection system, a gas powered water pump, and a surprisingly large fuel tank which was almost full according to the gauge on the side. He looked inside a large equipment shed, which was itself practically four times the size of his last apartment. This could work. They could grow food here, they could convert part of the shed to a safe and comfortable place to sleep, they would have plenty of space to store supplies, and the fuel in the tank would last quite a long time. This could definitely work.

His heart leapt when out of the corner of his eyes he saw a gas-powered generator and he hurried over to inspect it. Of course, his hopes were dashed when he popped the casing off and revealed a mass of rodent-chewed wires. He could probably fix this, though, if he could come up with the right tools and materials. "Gee, it sure would be nice if I had a pair of lineman's pliers right about now."

Ren crossed his arms and his lips pulled back into a snarl. "Yeah, and I'd love a bar of high-quality dark chocolate, but we can't exactly run out to the corner store and pick up whatever we want."

Hux scoffed in irritation. He never understood people's attitudes about chocolate. Even as a child he'd always found it on the boring side compared to all the other sweets in existence, and he'd always preferred tart fruit flavors over chocolate on any occasion. Anyway, chocolate and tools were nowhere near comparable. One was an indulgence while the other was a necessity, but there again, he had no energy for a fight just now. He stood and reached to smooth his hair back out of his eyes, but thought better of it when he caught the lingering putrid scent of the dried zombie goo on his hands, reminding him that he really needed to wash them before he touched anything else. Instead he tried to flick his hair out of his face with a jerk of his head that reminded him of sexy ladies in shampoo commercials, though he assumed it didn't look even slightly alluring when he was the one doing it. It was a worthless effort, anyway, as his hair just fell into his eyes again and he gave up. "Lack of a working generator aside, this is perfect. We'll want to repair the fence, but for now we can clear out that storage loft in the shed and sleep up there during the night. We'll be safe and well out of reach of zombies there. And we can start growing a sustainable food source for when canned goods start to get scarce, and-"

Ren held up a hand and interrupted him. "Right, I got it. You don't need to convince me. Besides, we already fought hard to clear out the zombies just so we could get in this place, I'm willing to give it a shot."

Hux bristled at being cut off mid-sentence yet again, but he let it pass and even relaxed a bit at Ren's response, because at least they were in agreement. "So should we start emptying out the supplies from the car? Make room to collect more?"

Ren nodded. "Sure. Then we're going back to the mattress store to get beds."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until this is done, I make myself to write another 5000 words before releasing the next chapter, and shoot for 2 weeks between each one. I met my goal earlier than expected this time around, so enjoy an early chapter. This one was a little more fun to write. I only hope it's equally fun to read.


	5. A Line is Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some Shit is About to Go Down.

Kylo felt like he should have known something like this was coming. Things had been going a little too smoothly in the weeks since they'd settled in at the plant nursery. The fence was repaired to keep them safe from wandering zombies, they had comfortable places to sleep, and there were a few herb and vegetable plants in the green houses that hadn't yet died from lack of water. Some of the tomato plants even had ripe tomatoes on them. Kylo had never been a huge fan of tomatoes, but he had to admit that after weeks of nothing but canned and preserved foods, a fresh tomato tasted pretty fantastic. Prospects for a reliable food source in the future were looking pretty good, and in the meantime they had enough food and water to last them quite a while between the supplies they brought with them and what they'd found in a few nearby farm houses. When it came to non-perishable supplies, though, one could never really have too much extra food and water stored in case of emergencies. There were also tools and other useful things to look out for, so they took the car out on scavenging runs pretty often, each time driving a few miles further in one direction or another.

There were signs of other survivors in most of the places they found. That wasn't unusual on its own. There were almost always broken locks or signs of previous scavenging. Once he'd even heard a noise and looked up to see a temporary structure high up in a tree, a quick glimpse of a face peering out at him before it vanished. Hux flipped his shit over that. He babbled about how if that person or persons had a gun they could kill them right where they stood and demanded they leave immediately. Despite Hux's protests, Ren left a small collection of canned food and small bottles of water in clear view of the tree house before allowing Hux to drag him away. After all, that person hadn't threatened them. They were probably just scared and hungry. He had wanted to go back, check if his peace offering had been accepted or left behind in suspicion, but Hux had been too nervous to go back that way ever since.

He realized now that Hux was right and they'd been lucky. Having encountered at least one other survivor should have been reason for additional caution, but instead Kylo had gotten too comfortable and sloppy. He'd seen plenty of zombie movies and TV shows. He knew that when things got bad, living people were even more dangerous than undead monsters. But they'd come this far and hadn't had any negative encounters with other people yet. Apparently he'd forgotten how dangerous people could be.

"Get on your knees! Don't move! DON'T MOVE!"

The feeling of a gun barrel pressed to his head was plenty of motivation to follow instructions, even though his first instinct was to fight. He knew how to disarm an attacker with a gun. They went over that specifically in one of his martial arts classes. That was a defense against a single attacker, though, and while he hadn't gotten a good look, he already knew there were at least two of them. If he tried to disarm one, the other would probably just shoot him before he could get away. On top of that, it felt so much different in reality with a _real_ gun pointed at him than it had practicing with a plastic toy pointed in his face. One little mistake here and he'd be dead, but there was some part of him that was still too surprised to be terrified into silence. "Which is it? Do you want me to stay still or get on my knees?"

"Shut up!" There was a sharp pain as the butt of a handgun struck him in the back of the head and a booted foot gouged into the back of his right knee, driving him to the ground. He slowly, cautiously raised his hands as his attackers circled around in front of him, each with a gun trained on his head. Apparently there were only two of them, one short and stocky with a handgun and one taller and thinner with a rifle, both with lank hair that was probably blond when it wasn't caked with grease and mud. The shorter one crouched down to roughly search him, but all he had on him were the steel pipe he'd been using as a weapon, a knife, a full canteen of water, and a nice pair of pliers he'd picked up for Hux.

Hux.

He couldn't remember what direction Hux said he was going when they split up, but he hoped he hadn't run into any of these people as well. They were supposed to meet back at the car in 20 minutes. What would Hux do if Kylo never met him at the car? What if these people killed him, then found the car and Hux along with it? Hux knew he wasn't carrying a gun, so if he heard a gunshot surely he'd know to run, right?

Once he finished almost violently rummaging through Kylo's pockets and patting him down to make sure nothing was concealed under his clothes, the shorter one grunted in irritation. "You gotta' be shitting me. This is all you're carrying? Where's your group? How many people did you bring?"

Ren's pulse began to hammer away in his throat as he shook his head. "No group. It's just me," he said, hating the desperation in his voice, but then he thought he might as well roll with it. He looked up at his attackers through the shaggy mess of dirty hair hanging in his face, letting his eyes go wide and frightened like a trapped animal. "I'm the only one left."

"Uh huh. Where's your camp, then? The rest of your supplies?" Already shorty was sounding unconvinced.

"No camp. I've just been running. Living off of what I can find." Kylo swallowed the panic rising in his throat, fully aware of how unconvincing he sounded but hoping these people wouldn't go looking for Hux.

The taller one snorted in disbelief. "He's lying. Just look at him. Doesn't look like he's been starving." 

Shorty paused, then, nodding thoughtfully. "You're probably right. Guess he might have been with that camp we saw that got overrun when that herd of dead ones came through a while ago, though."

"I was," Kylo blurted out, seizing the opportunity. Maybe if he could convince them that he was alone and not a threat to them, they would let him go. "It was awful. Look, I don't want trouble. If this is your territory or whatever, I'll go and you'll never see me again."

The tall one shook his head and continued on as if Kylo hadn't even spoken. "Nah, I don't think so. That was more than three weeks ago. No way this guy survived that long wandering around out here with nothing but a stick and a knife. Not looking so clean and well-fed. He's got a camp, and I bet he's got people, too."

"I bet you're right," shorty sighed. "Better keep our heads up, in case they come looking for him, then. See if we can find them first. Less risk than letting him go, 'cause then they'd come looking for _us_ instead of _him_."

"N-no, I swear, I'm alone!" Kylo's gut twisted in fear. They were going to find the car. They were going to find Hux. But first they were going to kill him and, god, he was about to die and the only thing he could think about was Hux. _How fucking pathetic-_

Shorty shrugged. "Maybe you are, maybe you aren't. We know at least part of your story is a lie, but we don't know which part. Can't really take the risk, can we? I'm not gonna' fuck around trying to torture the truth out of you, so I think we're done here."

Kylo flinched away as the handgun was leveled at his head again, shouting one last word of protest. He wasn't even sure if it was "No" or "Wait" or maybe it wasn't a word at all, but he knew it was his last. No one would remember his last words, anyway. 

The gunshot rang out and something warm spattered across him. He assumed it was his own blood. It was over. He just hoped that Hux heard it and ran.

Being dead didn't feel any different than being alive. Maybe his consciousness was just going to stay trapped in place while his body lay there and rotted away. He could feel wind on his skin, smell dirt, and someone was yelling an awful lot. Was he yelling? Was he not dead? Kylo opened his eyes to see flecks of red scattered everywhere, across his hands, his clothes, and Shorty's lifeless form slumped on the ground in front of him. Or, apparently his name was Fritz, not Shorty, since that's the name the taller one kept yelling as he clung to him, shaking him as if that would wake him. In his confusion, Kylo struggled to put together what had happened until Fritz's head lulled to the side, revealing a large section of the back of his head was missing. Then he nearly vomited.

"You did this! You fucking did this! You killed Fritz!" The tall one was staggering to his feet now, fumbling to pick his rifle up from the ground. "I'll kill you!" He pointed the gun at Kylo and turned to scream into the distance, "Motherfucker, you hear me!? I'll fuckin' kill-"

Kylo flinched again as another shot rang out, but this time he was watching when a piece of the other man's head sprayed outward like a burst bubble, showering the area in bits of blood and bone before he joined Fritz on the ground. He turned to look in the direction the shot had come from and caught movement through the trees. A flash of familiar orange. Hux.

Bile rose in his throat when he looked back at the fresh bodies on the ground in front of him. He figured he would have gotten used to seeing dead bodies by now. Blood, gore, guts, walking corpses trying to eat anything that moved, these were all commonplace now, but this was so much different. So much worse. The others were just dead things. These two had been thinking, feeling people with names moments ago. At least Fritz had a name. The tall one surely had a name as well, but he'd never know it now. He wondered- _NO, his name doesn't matter and you do not need to know it!_ \- But they'd obviously cared about each other, they might have been brothers, or lovers, or- _HOLY SHIT, do not ship the two dead assholes who just TRIED TO KILL YOU!_

He frantically tried to wipe the blood spattered on his hands onto his jeans as he struggled to compose his thoughts into something rational. He should find Hux. They should go back to their camp, as it obviously wasn't safe to be scavenging in this area right now. If these two were part of a larger group, there could be others nearby who would have heard the gunshots and might come looking now. Either way the sounds were sure to attract more zombies, and Kylo didn't want to get stuck fighting off more than one or two right now with his hands shaking and his insides quivering like under-set gelatin.

It occurred to him that he really ought to search the bodies for supplies. They had guns, probably more ammunition, maybe some other useful things along with the meager supplies they'd taken from him. It would be irresponsible to just leave those things lying in the woods, but looting corpses wasn't something they'd resorted to yet. That may have been partly because they'd never actually encountered such freshly dead corpses before, but it still seemed wrong. Like desecrating a grave. There was no time for this moral quandary bullshit, though. He needed to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, so he took a slow breath to steel his nerves and tried to search the fallen survivors as briskly as possible.

The bodies were still warm, and he wasn't sure if that made this better or worse in terms of how much his skin crawled as he grappled with their limp forms so he could remove their backpacks and search their pockets. He tried not to think about how these might have been good people once, or wonder what he would have done if their situations were reversed. Since he and Hux kept almost entirely to rural areas, these were the first living survivors they'd encountered apart from that glimpse of the person in the tree. So he'd never been faced with the decision of what to do with someone at his mercy who could just as easily be a threat as an ally. Maybe they could have worked with these people and teamed up. A larger group surely had its advantages, and it's not like they'd been evil, they'd just wanted to protect themselves. After all, Fritz hadn't wanted to torture him- _GOD, not being in the mood to torture you BEFORE he killed you does not make him a good person! Shut up shut up SHUT UP!!_

He didn't take the time to sort through everything in their packs, just shoved anything useful from their pockets into the empty space at the top of one of the packs. He could sort it all out into their inventory later, but for now he needed to get out of there, find Hux, and try very hard not to think about the fact that Hux just murdered two people to save his life. They'd both killed a decent number of zombies at this point. Hux had even gotten to the point where he could overcome his panic or whatever and kill them consistently with hand weapons instead of relying entirely on guns. It was obviously still difficult for him, but he did it anyway. That was nothing like killing a live person, though, and it felt like a very serious line had been crossed. As he thought about it (tried not to think about it), though, Kylo was sure he would have done the same if his and Hux's places had been reversed. That thought on its own was alarming.

Kylo slung both bags over his shoulder and leaned down to gather the two guns when he saw the bright yellow handles of the pair of pliers laying in the grass. Fuck, he'd almost forgotten them, and Hux had been griping endlessly about needing a pair. He'd been so glad to find them just because he knew it would stop the complaining. Snatching them off the ground, he stuffed them in his pocket and headed for the car. If Hux had any sense at all, that's where he'd be.

When he rounded a tall shrub to walk up the hidden driveway where they'd stashed the car, he nearly stepped in a puddle of vomit on the packed-down dirt of the path. He walked along the drive and as the car came into view something in him snapped like a glowstick and flooded his chest with warm relief when he saw Hux, even though Hux was obviously not okay. He didn't appear to be physically hurt, but he was leaned against the side of the car and doubled over, breathing shallowly as if he was trying not to get sick again. His gun lay on the ground at his feet.

Kylo approached slowly and flung the bags and guns he'd stolen into the cargo section of the car before walking around to lean next to Hux, who didn't even acknowledge his approach. As much as he was in a hurry to leave, he didn't want to rush Hux, either. Especially if he might throw up in the car. So he just stared down at their two pairs of feet next to each other on the ground and let Hux breathe. He felt like he should say something, but he had no clue what. _Hey, thanks for having my back and murdering those two guys. Team work! Fist-bump me, bro!_ "I got the pliers you wanted."

Next to him, Hux's back shuddered and shook with a sound that could have been sobbing or laughing. In either case, Kylo thought he might feel the same.  
*

*  
Once Hux had recovered enough of his senses to get in the car, the drive home was silent and uncomfortable. Not that silence between them was usually companionable, but this was uncomfortable on an entirely new level. They both stared ahead at the road, trying hard not to think about what had just happened, but so affected by it that they couldn't think of anything else. Kylo cast a few glances at Hux from the corner of his eye, thinking they should probably talk. In therapy they always told him to talk about things. It would probably help both of them to talk about what they'd both just been through, but he couldn't bring himself to say a word. He wasn't even sure which one of them had the more traumatizing experience. He'd nearly been killed, and got a front-row seat to two other men being murdered. Hux had been a safe distance away and hadn't seen the looks on their faces, been spattered with their blood, watched the bodies go slack as life was torn out of them. Hux hadn't experienced those things up close, but he'd pulled the trigger that caused them. Kylo thought, in some ways, that could be worse.

The drive back to the plant nursery from the collection of rural homes they'd been scavenging from was nearly an hour, and it was getting dark by the time they arrived. Nearly a full day spent, several gallons of fuel burned driving there and back, and they had very little to show for it other than emotional trauma and a new pair of pliers. It was hard not to be angry about what a waste the entire day had been, but it was also hard to summon the energy to be properly angry at the moment. Maybe he could be angry about it tomorrow.

Hux didn't speak for the rest of the day. When they got home, he latched the gate after Kylo drove the car inside the fence, then went into the storage shed they'd made into their residence and left Kylo to unload the car on his own. Again, Kylo couldn't quite muster the strength to be angry about it. Or maybe he _was_ angry, but it felt too distant for him to express it. None of his emotions seemed to be working properly. They were still _there_ , or at least he had the vague sense that they were, but everything was so muted that he couldn't actually feel them. Or anything, really. Like his body was running on routine or instinct or whatever, and he was just along for the ride. 

He watched his hands unload the packs he'd stolen off of the two dead men, but still couldn't make himself open them just yet. Instead he set them, along with the guns he'd collected from them, in the smaller shed where they kept their tools and other equipment, deciding he could deal with them another time. The bag Hux had been carrying to collect things wasn't very full, but when he opened it to see where he should put its contents he paused. On top of a few cans of food and an unopened bottle of liquid soap were three bars of chocolate. Not the garbage milk chocolate candy bars they used to have at every checkout lane or gas station, but the high-quality, extra dark, stone-ground organic kind that was hard to find anywhere outside of big cities full of pretentious foodies. 

Hux brought him chocolate.

That meant something. It was significant in a way that Kylo couldn't fully comprehend at that moment, but a twinge in his chest cut through the emotional fog. Even though he couldn't assign a name to it, the feeling was very distinctly _there_. It felt important. Big. Like a reaction to this was due on his part, but right now he was so lost all he could do was stand there, staring down into the bag for a few moments at the Big, Important Chocolate with its overcomplicated emotional demands. Maybe tomorrow. He'd come back to it then and experience all his proper emotions and he'd know what he was supposed to do, but right now it was like a puzzle with half the pieces missing. There was a sort of shadow or an outline of what he was supposed to feel, but there were blank spaces where all the most important bits were supposed to go.

Eventually he convinced his body to move again and carried the bag with him into the large shed where they lived, closing the door behind him and blocking out most of the fading daylight. There were shelves under the loft where they slept that they used to store food and hygiene items, and Kylo made his way across to them in the dark to unload the bag. He wasn't sure where to put the chocolate. Technically it was food, but it wasn't like all the other sad, overprocessed shit on the shelves that they ate on a day-to-day basis just for the sake of staying alive. This was a _treat_. It was rare and special and he thought things like this should probably have their own shelf. A sudden urge struck him to take it with him up to his bed where he could keep it under the mattress or under his pillow, somewhere close by like a child with a favorite toy, as though knowing it was near could give him comfort. Or maybe he wanted it close so he could guard it because it was so precious and rare. Either way, he thought Hux would consider it a strange and unreasonable desire, so he brushed it aside. He put the chocolate on the shelf next to a can of cherry pie filling, since that was technically supposed to be a dessert even though he always thought canned pie filling was sour and disgusting, particularly the cherry flavor.

By the time he climbed up the ladder to the loft, his eyes had mostly adjusted to the dark and he could just make out the shape of Hux laying on his bed, on top of the covers. He couldn't be sure if Hux was asleep or if he was laying awake, staring into the dark with the same blank expression he'd had when he walked into the shed. In either case he was silent, so Kylo let him be as he stripped out of his shirt, jeans, and shoes and crawled into his own bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin.

The heavy numbness must have been starting to wear off because now that he was in bed some of his emotions started creeping back in, though the only ones at the forefront were fear and dread. He lay awake worrying about other survivors finding them, invading their home, killing them to steal everything they had for themselves. Every sound set him on edge, and he stared out into the dark thinking of ways to fortify their fence to keep them safe. He wasn't sure at what point he finally fell asleep, but eventually his worries drifted into uneasy dreams. 

When the sun rose the next day, he woke somewhat surprised to find that he'd fallen asleep at all. He felt sore and unrested with the muscles in his neck and shoulders knotted from stress. He hadn't heard a sound from Hux's side of the loft all night. There was no rustling or creaking of springs to indicate restlessness, but somehow he doubted that meant Hux had slept peacefully. Hux had probably been laying still and awake, just as Kylo had been, listening to the sound of his racing heartbeat as his eyes began to ache from holding them open and straining to see through the dark.

He sat up and looked across the loft to Hux's bed, half expecting to find him laying there still, wide awake and staring at the rafters overhead. Instead he found Hux's bed empty. That wasn't so surprising in itself, even though Hux very rarely woke before Kylo. He assumed Hux probably lay awake until the sun rose, then got up went out to work on their half-hearted attempt at a vegetable garden. Or maybe he was making modifications to the fence, similar to what Kylo had been thinking about before he somehow managed to fall asleep. But then something on the floor of the loft caught his eye.

Hux's gun. He'd left it behind.

An unexpected panic gripped him. Hux hadn't let the gun out of his sight since Kylo had given it to him. He wouldn't have forgotten it, and Kylo couldn't imagine that he would leave it behind on purpose. Unless something was wrong? Maybe yesterday was more than Hux could handle. Maybe he'd snapped and left the gun behind and gone wandering off on his own to be murdered by zombies or _other survivors_. Maybe the two from yesterday had a larger group, and they'd come in the night after Kylo was asleep to take Hux and get revenge for their friends.

Kylo knew his train of thought was getting increasingly unreasonable and erratic, but he couldn't seem to stop it. He wanted to yell for Hux, so Hux could tell him he was fine and Kylo was being an idiot, but he was suddenly afraid to do so. Even if Hux hadn't been kidnapped, his instincts screamed at him that there could be others nearby, close enough to hear, and if they hadn't found their makeshift home already they certainly would if they heard Kylo yelling. Instead he scrambled out of bed and into the filthy clothes he'd tossed aside before crawling into bed the night before, then he collected Hux's gun and climbed down to the ground as quickly as he could without falling.

Once he was on the ground he slowed his pace, heart hammering away in his chest, as he crept toward the door of the storage shed. He could hear something outside. Something large being dragged? It might be Hux working on some new project, but then again, it might not. He pressed his back against the wall by the door and breathed deeply for a moment or two, trying to calm himself while still preparing for the worst eventuality. A steel pipe was leaning against the wall beside him and he gripped it tightly, took one more slow breath, then threw the door open and raised it above his head, ready to strike.

Hux startled so terribly that he dropped the large wooden beam he'd been dragging and nearly stumbled over backward. It was the sort of reaction from Hux that Kylo would have found incredibly amusing under regular circumstances, but at the moment he could hardly think past the conflicting relief and anger welling up inside him as Hux went red in the face and snarled at him. "What the hell, Ren!?"

"You didn't take your gun!" Kylo shouted, jabbing the gun toward Hux, handle-first, like an accusation. Like that clearly explained everything, and the emotional war inside him was obviously Hux's fault.

Something dark and frightened passed through Hux's eyes as his gaze flicked to the gun, but he made no move to take it. "I'm literally right outside! I didn't think I would need it."

Kylo wanted to punch something. Why didn't Hux understand how frightened he'd been to wake up and find Hux's bed empty and his gun lying on the floor? God, why the _fuck_ was he so worried, anyway? He felt so _stupid_. "You never leave your gun! How were you going to defend yourself if something happened?"

"Why should I have to carry it everywhere I go? _You_ don't carry a gun!"

"Because I can defend myself perfectly well with hand weapons!"

"Oh, like you defended yourself yesterday?" That dark look look was on Hux's face again, but it lingered this time. There was horror in his eyes, anger in the twist of his mouth, both reaching so deep that Kylo thought for a moment Hux might choke on them.

He felt guilty then. On top of everything else, he felt _guilty_ for what Hux had done to save his life. It was all he could do not to throw the gun on the ground at Hux's feet. "I didn't ask you to do that! You could have just let them kill me!"

"And you could have let me die several times over! But for _some reason_ I can't fathom, you didn't! I don't know why you saved me, or why you're so worried I'll drop dead if I'm out of your sight for two seconds, but I'm not some helpless child who needs constant supervision!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL I HAVE!" The words were out of Kylo's mouth before he even realized what he was saying, and Hux stared at him, gaping in stunned silence. Kylo wasn't even sure what he meant by that, but as he replayed it in his mind he knew it was true. He and Hux fought and snarked and insulted each other and ate together and watched each other's backs and _without_ that, what would he have? He could feel the prickle of tears forming at the back of his eyes, and he grit his teeth with frustration for not even knowing _why_ he felt like he was going to cry.

Without another word, he recklessly shoved the gun into Hux's hands and turned to stomp away. He knew he must look petulant from Hux's perspective, and maybe he _was_ being petulant, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to be _away_. Away from Hux, from the fucking shed that was their home now, he'd get away from _himself_ if he could. Last night he felt numb but now he felt too much all at once, and he didn't know where to begin sorting through it so he could make any sense of it.

He walked toward the greenhouses, thinking he might burn off some energy stalking up and down between the rows of plants. It helped him to calm down a bit, but there was still too much going on in his head, all jumbled and confused and at the very center of it was Hux. As he paced, he kept glancing across the at where Hux was piling materials to build something. _A platform? A watchtower, maybe?_ He kept watch while trying not to give away that he was watching. Hux had one of the large rain barrels from the water collector now, and one of the replacement spray heads for the automated watering system. _A shower._ Hux was trying to build a fucking gravity shower. _Of all the pointless-_ As if they couldn't bathe perfectly well with a bucket of water and a rag. It was a _waste of water_. Sure, they could use rain water so it wouldn't waste drinking water, but _still!_

God, why was this making him so angry? It wasn't that big of a deal, was it? There was plenty of rain water. There was even a creek not far from the camp that they could carry water from if they needed to. He could let Hux have this _one_ little luxury, but Hux's _very fucking existence_ was pissing him off at the moment. He needed to get even further away. He couldn't just pace back and forth, watching Hux and stewing in anger. He needed to get _out_.

Hux looked up at him as he stormed past where he was working, but he blatantly ignored Hux and yanked open the door to their supply shed. He made his way to the back and picked through the weapons until he found the revolver his dad taught him to shoot with when he was still just a kid. If he was going out alone, he'd better take a gun with him this time.

He didn't even glance at Hux as he got in the car and drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, folks! I wanted this to be finished by Halloween, but I keep drastically underestimating how long this is going to be. But here's another early chapter, anyway. Thanks for hanging in there with me for this long. For anyone who hasn't given up on me yet, I promise there will be kissing and stuff in the next chapter.


	6. Wash Away the Sins of Yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is what we all came here for.

There was a time when Hux reveled in Ren's little outbursts and fits of rage. It was irritating when they were destructive, of course, but even so he saw them as a sign of weakness. Ren, who looked so big and strong, who seemed so confident and entitled, who wore his odd assembly of facial features like they were distinctions rather than flaws, had this one weakness that Hux could always exploit. It made Hux feel like, despite all the ways his subconscious insisted Ren was better than him, this weakness proved he was still superior. Ren might be confident and strong, but with only a few words Hux could send him spiraling out of control. So between the two of them, who had the real strength? It proved that no matter how strong Ren was, Hux was stronger, and he basked in that feeling of power. That was before, though. Over these past several weeks- _months? Had it been more than two months yet? He'd lost track_ \- he'd begun to hate Ren's explosive temper.

The difference was that he counted on Ren now. There was no sense in trying to deny it anymore. He trusted Ren with his life, depended on him to watch his back and give him protection when he needed it. He no longer feared that Ren might physically harm him, but he needed Ren to be reliable and keep control of himself. If Ren abandoned him or got himself killed, Hux would be completely on his own. He'd never trust anyone else. Especially not after-... after what happened the day before. But those men were going to kill Ren. He'd had to do it. He'd _had to_ -

He stopped what he was doing and pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes, trying to stop the memory of it from hitting him again. It was _over_. It was done and couldn't be changed. Fretting over it now would do him no good. He was alive, and Ren was alive, and that was all that mattered.

But Ren was gone, now, and that was the problem. He'd committed murder in order to keep from losing Ren, but he was still gone all the same.

He was well aware of his habit to constantly pick at Ren's defenses and push him over the edge, but he'd been holding back more and more and he thought things might actually be improving between them. But that morning Ren flew completely off the handle and Hux wasn't even sure why. All he'd done was go outside without his gun because he couldn't bear to look at the deadly thing at the moment, and Ren acted like it had been a personal attack against him. And Ren had never been so angry that he _left_ before. That was the part that frightened him the most. Was he coming back? Had he finally given up and abandoned Hux, right after Hux had saved his life? After what Hux had _done_ to save his life?

Maybe that was the real reason Ren had left. Maybe after all the fighting and all things they'd been through, _murder_ was the final straw. The one thing Ren couldn't forgive, even though it had only been done for the sake of his survival. Hux started to wonder if he should have done something different. He could have shot those men in the arm or the leg instead of going straight for the kill. That _might_ have sent them on the run and made them spare Ren, but it may not have. They may have still killed Ren, and then come after him. Or they may have had more people who would have come running to back them up. But even if he had shot to injure, if they had given up and let Ren live, would a debilitating injury like that have been anything less than a death sentence, anyway? A quick death was more merciful than dying slowly of infection, or being eaten alive by zombies because an injury kept you from fighting them off. He'd made the right decision, and he needed to keep reminding himself of that. If Ren wanted to argue about it, he was prepared to defend his actions.

If Ren ever came back.

Being by himself never really bothered him in the past, but he'd never been _alone_ like this. The first time he'd felt truly alone had been just following his mother's death. Once she was gone, he had no one. No family to reach out to. No friends because he'd kept other people away, too busy studying and making sure his scores put him at the top of every class. Even Ms. Sloane, his mother's former employer who had distantly looked out for his academic career since he was young, had died in a car accident some years ago. He felt alone back then because he had no one to look to for help if he needed it, no one to celebrate his achievements with, no one who would come looking for his body if he spontaneously died of a subarachnoid hemorrhage. In a life where he was surrounded by people, he still felt so horribly alone because none of them were people he liked or even cared to know, and certainly none of them cared about him. 

He'd never been alone like this, though. For all he knew there wasn't another living soul for miles and miles, but there were literal monsters that wanted to eat him alive right outside the fence. If there _were_ any other living humans in the area, he was certain they would be even more dangerous to him than the monsters. It was frightening to be out in the open because he felt vulnerable, but hiding himself away inside the shed wasn't any better because he still had the crawling feeling that dangerous things were lurking in the dark. In that regard he didn't technically feel alone, but the fact that he had no ally to stand with him against a world where everything was trying to kill him was so frightening he could scarcely breathe. He hadn't noticed how comforting Ren's very presence was until it was gone, and he realized now that he'd been relying on it for far longer than he wanted to admit.

After his mother passed he'd struggled for months, nearly a year, to fully process and come to terms with his new state of aloneness. In that time he made a few weak attempts to reach out to people and make friends, but that was a skill he'd missed out on developing in childhood. He didn't have friends as a child, but had gotten along just fine by reading and entertaining himself. Now, despite his intelligence, he didn't quite understand how friendship was supposed to work as an adult. As he understood it, it was a sort of social transaction and he wasn't clear on what he was supposed to be giving in order to receive friendship in return. He did better with romantic pursuits than platonic ones, not because he was particularly suave, but because he could at least quantify the transaction. People wanted orgasms and physical intimacy, it was an exchange that made sense. So he had a few hook-ups and one-night stands, he could be charming enough to get someone into bed with him, but it never ended in anything more than a thank you/goodbye kiss. 

Casual sex was nice while it lasted, but only served to highlight how alone he was when he went back to his empty apartment and berated himself for prioritizing sex over studying or working on his thesis (which he'd barely started.) Before long he gave up entirely and accepted that he wasn't really meant to socialize or have relationships. At least not until after he finished his graduate degree. He thought that maybe once he was no longer busy with school he might have time to teach himself how to socialize and make some friends, maybe even find an actual boyfriend. Until then, he kept his distance to avoid disappointments. 

He'd learned a long time ago that there was something about him, his speech or his mannerisms or a look he got in his eye, that others found intimidating, and he'd honed that since he was very young and used it like a shield. It was useful because it kept anyone from wanting to get close, but it also made them afraid to earn his displeasure. At least that's how it was until Ren came along. He always knew people didn't like him, he caught them muttering and then avoiding his eye, but they always kept their opinions of him to themselves. Ren, however, didn't like him and he _did not care_ if he knew it. In fact, he went out of his way to make sure Hux was aware. Ren would tell Hux straight to his face what he thought of him, even though Hux was his boss and all reason suggested that he should go out of his way to stay in Hux's good graces. 

Hux, of course, hated it. Hated Ren, hated his confidence, his _audacity_ , everything about him. But at the same time, Ren was so genuine and open with his opinions that it was a breath of fresh air. No one else would dare argue with him, and until Ren came along he'd never realized how cathartic a simple, straight-forward argument could be. He should have fired Ren after their first big clash, but he found himself making excuses to keep him on. Ren got away with things that would have been immediately fireable offenses from anyone else, including openly undermining him and arguing with him in front of other employees. 

Then he overheard a conversation and learned the popular theory among his employees was that he and Ren were fucking.

That shocked him completely. He and Ren clearly hated each other. Admittedly he'd indulged in a few erotic fantasies featuring Ren, but that had nothing to do with _Ren_ himself. He'd decided sex wasn't a high priority and he'd gone without it for a couple years now, but deciding sex was unimportant didn't eliminate his libido. It wasn't unusual for people to occasionally fantasize about attractive people they encountered, and there was no sense denying that Ren was physically attractive. On top of that, Ren was the only person he regularly interacted with who evoked any sort of strong emotion in him, even if they were negative emotions. Those were all just fantasies, though, and they were no one's business but his own. They had nothing at all to do with reality. He seriously doubted that Ren had any interest in having sex with other men, anyway, and even if he did there was no way Hux would let him anywhere near his genitals.

Lack of romantic interest aside, Hux realized now that the passion Ren evoked was an integral part of his life even back then. Before he met Ren, his life had fallen into dispassionate monotony. His degree and his future career were important, but not because he was passionate about either. He studied constantly because it was what he was supposed to do, what he had _always_ done. He had a plan for his life, and with his newly incurred student debt it was more important than ever that he stick to it so he could make a lot of money and pay back his loans. He worked hard, day and night, simply doing what he had to do in order to pay his bills and all the while trying his best to arrange a future for himself where he might not have to struggle every day just to keep within a reasonable standard of living.

Then he met Ren, who made him more furious than anyone else he'd ever known. It wasn't joy or love or pride or any of the other positive emotions people usually strive for in their lives, but it was _intense_. It was real, it was addictive, and it reminded him what it felt like to be alive. Looking back, he realized how desperate he'd been to feel something like that, and with that hindsight he could no longer deny that he'd needed Ren then almost as much as he needed him now. Ren was his last lingering tie to humanity in more ways than one.

Ren had his own issues as well, obviously, and Hux was well aware. He heard him tossing restlessly at night, had caught him waking suddenly from nightmares on more than one occasion. He noticed a haunted look on Ren's face at times when he thought Hux wasn't watching. He hadn't seen Ren cry again since burning down his parents' house, but there were a few occasions where he looked like he was going to. Or like he would be crying if he had the energy to spare for it. Even when he was relatively well rested, Ren seemed tired. Like he'd given up, but for some reason he was still forcing himself to keep on living. Hux couldn't imagine what that reason was.

_Because you're all I have!_

Ren's words passed through his thoughts again as heavily as a lead ball bearing, rolling through his skull and down his throat to settle like a weight in his gut. It was scary to think that he might be the only thing Ren had left to live for. What sort of sad existence would that be? They could hardly be civil with one another even now when their lives so often depended on each other. All they did between survival tasks was bicker. Being the one remaining motivation for Ren to stay alive felt like a horrible responsibility to lay on his shoulders, one in which he must surely be failing. Maybe that's why Ren left. Maybe he wanted to die, and he went off to get himself killed somewhere where Hux wouldn't be there to save him.

This was absolutely not a train of thought he should be following right now.

He pressed the heels of his hands hard against his closed eyes again, trying to focus on the dull ache to clear his mind. He was in the middle of a project, here. If he could just concentrate on that, then he need not worry about about anything until night came and he was laying in bed, staring into the dark with nothing else to occupy him. It didn't solve anything, there would still be plenty to worry about, but at least that way he could put it off for several hours and do something productive in the meantime.

Of course, he was already annoyed with this project. It would be functional, he was certain of that, but it was _inefficient_. He could have run a pipe for a shower directly to the water collection system, that way they would have continuous pressure and water flow for as long as the main reservoir was mostly full. That required some proper water-tight plumbing equipment, though, and ran the risk of creating a leak in their primary water supply. If they ever found the right equipment he would most certainly do it, but that was unlikely at best.

As it was with the shower he was currently building, if there wasn't a lot of rain to fill the barrel they'd have to climb a ladder and do it manually with buckets. It was going to be such a massive ordeal just to make it work, but he was so fucking tired of being covered in filth and grime constantly. Washing himself with a rag and a bucket of water wasn't enough anymore. It hadn't really been enough from the start, but he was past the breaking point and couldn't stand one more day without a shower. And a shave. His beard itched, and he was tired of it. Tired of looking and feeling like a shaggy, unkempt mess. He needed a haircut, too, but that was something he couldn't really do on his own, so it wasn't going to happen unless Ren had secret barbering skills.

If Ren ever came back.

God, he wished he could stop thinking about that. About Ren, in general. Even thinking about shaving made him think about how Ren had been fairly diligent about keeping himself clean-shaven ever since Hux made a remark about the hair on his face coming in like patchy pubic hair. It was a needlessly harsh comment and he actually felt bad about it afterward, particularly since Ren's reaction and resulting behavior indicated he'd hit a nerve. That had also been the first time he'd gotten truly annoyed at himself for giving a shit about Ren's feelings, because _since when_ had Ren's feelings ever mattered to him?

He chewed on his lower lip and his brow furrowed in concentration as he turned all of his attention to double-checking the equations he'd run in his head to estimate the angles of the legs and stabilizing cross-beams on the platform, the approximate weight of the barrel when it was full of water, the length of time it might take for the barrel to empty through the makeshift shower nozzle he planned to install in the bottom. Math was good. There were no pesky emotions involved in math, and after a short while his thoughts were steady enough to get back to work on the task at hand.

It took him almost the entire day to build the platform even though he managed not to be driven to distraction again. His thoughts still drifted occasionally to Ren, if only because all of this would be so much easier if he had another person there to lend a hand. It was even much more difficult than he anticipated to haul the empty rain barrel up the ladder to the top of the platform without help, but after a few attempts, a lot of effort, and a bit of ingenuity he did finally manage it. By the time he had the thing fully assembled, the sun was more than half-way across the sky and it would be getting dark soon. If he was going to shave, he'd better do it now while there was still plenty of light. That would give him a bit of a break before he started hauling buckets to fill the damned barrel, anyway.

His beard was long enough now that he needed to trim it before he could even think about trying to shave with the shitty safety razors they'd found, so he spent a completely unreasonable amount of time sitting in front of a tiny countertop vanity mirror, snipping away at it with a pair of scissors. Eventually he got it trimmed down to a thick stubble that the safety razor could handle, but even then it took several passes with the razor to remove it all. If he planned to keep himself clean-shaven he could _not_ let it get so long again. That was far too onerous a task to put up with again any time soon. If only he were back at his apartment, in his own bathroom, with his own shaving kit, his own shower and bath products, his towels-

Another unhelpful train of thought. It did no good at all to torture himself with memories of simple things he'd taken for granted when he had them.

Since he had no working clock with him he couldn't be certain how long it took to fill the barrel, but it felt hours and by the time he finished he was sweaty and his entire body was worn out, particularly his arms from carrying the heavy buckets back and forth. The sun was perilously close to the treetops now, and while he didn't relish the idea of standing outside naked and dousing himself with cold rain water in what he was now sure was the middle of December, he still couldn't bear the thought of going one more night without showering. He was just thankful that they'd driven far enough south that the temperature was still well above freezing.

The water was cooler than he would have liked but while he stood under it, giving his hair the most thorough washing of his entire life, he was already planning ways to improve that. To start, he could paint the barrel itself black and fill it well in advance, so the sun would have time to warm it. It wouldn't be a huge improvement, but it would have to do until he came up with something better.

At the moment, a much more immediate problem had just occurred to him. Here he was showering for the first time in a couple of months, and the only thing he had to wear when he finished were the clothes he'd been wearing constantly since his no-shower streak began. He was going to all the trouble of getting clean, and then he'd have to undo all that effort by putting on those stinking, unwashed clothes. Not only that, but he didn't even have anything to dry himself with, which left him with the option to stand around naked like a fool until the water evaporated, or to be _wet_ when he put his dirty clothes back on. How could he be such a complete idiot and overlook something so obvious? He was never going to be properly clean again. He was going to die cold and alone, wearing disgusting months-old dirty laundry.

He was just about to work himself up into a proper panic over his current predicament when he heard noises that might have been an engine and a car door closing. His pulse raced in his throat at the thought that it could be an intruder. Maybe someone connected with the men from the day before. Maybe they'd tracked them back here. They were going to come around the side of the barn and find him perfectly defenseless, then they would kill him and take everything he and Ren had worked so hard to build. He thought he heard footsteps in the grass. This was it, he really was going to die this time.

When Ren's familiar shape came around the corner, Hux thought he might physically faint with the sudden swell of relief that bloomed in his chest and spread out into his extremities, rendering them weak. He silently thanked any celestial being that might be watching that Ren had returned and he wasn't alone anymore. He'd never been so glad to see another human in all his life. He didn't even care that he was standing there naked and probably looking completely ridiculous. It didn't matter. Ren was here, and he wasn't alone.

Not only was Ren _here_ , but he was walking toward Hux carrying what looked like a bundle of fabric. He bent down to pick up one of the buckets Hux had used to carry water and turned it over, setting the bundle on top of it so it wouldn't get wet and muddy in the runoff from the shower.

Towels. Ren disappeared all day, driving off to who knows where, and came back to bring him towels. And what looked like an entire set of fresh clothes. A choking sound escaped his throat, and he thought he might be crying, but the water was getting in his eyes so he couldn't be sure, but his throat was tight and his eyes felt too warm in spite of the cold water running over them.

Ren had been politely keeping his gaze on the ground, they both were always very careful to respect one another's privacy regarding hygiene activities, but he looked up at the sound and locked eyes with Hux. Hux didn't want to think how pathetic he might look at that moment but Ren didn't comment on it. He just stared at him with an expression that Hux couldn't describe other than to say that he never knew Ren's face could look so soft. He made another sound that was definitely a sob this time as something warm and terrifying welled up inside him. Clueless as to how to express it but knowing Ren was responsible for it, he reached out awkwardly in a vague appeal, though he wasn't sure what he was asking for.

The water running into his eyes rendered everything fuzzy around the edges, but he felt his outstretched hand taken in a firm, warm grasp and suddenly Ren was crowding into his space, under the shower spray with him, still fully clothed. Hux opened his mouth to speak, to berate Ren or maybe to thank him, but before he could determine what he wanted to say his mouth was occupied by the press of Ren's lips and all rationality abandoned him.

Ren's kiss felt like an inevitability. Like he'd always known it was coming on some level and so when it happened he wasn't even surprised, despite the suddenness of it. Despite the part of his brain that screamed that this _should_ be surprising. It should be startling and upsetting and disgusting and he should be shoving Ren away because he was _angry_ at Ren for leaving, for _everything_ , he hated Ren, _hated him_ \- But instead he coiled his fingers in the sodden material of Ren's shirt and returned the kiss with an intensity that _did_ surprise him.

When Ren pulled away and allowed him to breathe again he found he was shivering, and he thought it might only have been Ren's hold around his waist keeping him upright. "You left. You _left_." The words tumbled out of him in little more than a weak gasp.

"I came back..." Ren's voice was low and rich and earnest. The sound of it alone was like a balm to Hux's nerves, worn raw with worry. He drew back to look at Hux, like he was checking to see that his words were fully absorbed, and with the water plastering his voluminous hair flat against his head his ears stuck out, wide and prominent. Coupled with the intense expression on his face, he looked so patently ridiculous that it set an ache in Hux's chest, just below the sternum. It made Hux want to grab onto those ludicrous ears and haul him in for another kiss. So he did. And Ren let him.

Never in his life had a kiss seemed so necessary before, but if it weren't for the taste of Ren's mouth on his tongue he may not have believed Ren was actually there. He'd long ago started to think he might be going mad, and visual hallucinations would play into that theory. Even fleeting touches or phantom scents could be tricks of his mind, but he'd never heard of anyone tasting something that wasn't there. He threw himself fully into the slightly stale taste of Ren's mouth and knew it was real because a figment of his imagination would have tasted sweet, or like nothing at all. He let all his other senses drown in it and, god, Ren was good at this. The way he tilted his head just so, his long nose pressing in just below Hux's cheekbone like it was meant to fit there. The way his lips felt like they could completely engulf his own, plump and so much softer than he would ever have expected. The way he licked into his mouth with a delicate curl of his tongue like pronouncing a complicated word in a language alien to both of them. Why had he never thought of kissing Ren before?

In contrast to the cold water and rapidly cooling air around them, Ren radiated heat like a furnace and Hux wanted to huddle into his warmth. That wasn't "them," though. Offering comfort, physical or otherwise, wasn't really something they did for one another. But maybe that could change? Would Ren allow it? Did Hux actually _want_ it? 

When he finally drew back to breathe again he became aware of the gritty texture of dirt interwoven into the material of Ren's t-shirt, and he looked down to see the various splotches of grime and dried blood spreading and leaching their way downward through the fabric with Ren's broad chest underneath. He was momentarily paralyzed between being repulsed by the state of Ren's clothes, and raw lust at the way the wet material clung to him like a second skin, defining every slope and curve of shapes he'd always known were there but had never seen so clearly. "You're filthy," he blurted in a voice so raw and gravelly he barely recognized it as his own.

Ren made a small sound that may have been a huff of irritation or a breath of laughter, or possibly something in between, then drew the shirt off over his head and dropped it on the ground with an unpleasant _plop_ that made Hux cringe a bit. That shirt was going to sit in the mud and get even filthier, but Hux reasoned that if the shirt was irrecoverably ruined and Ren never wore a shirt again, he would be okay with that. The wet jeans and shoes were more of a struggle to remove, but Ren managed it with an unexpected level of grace that had Hux wondering if stripping out of hopelessly wet clothes had been a regular occurrence for Ren in his former life.

When they came back together it only seemed natural to wash Ren as he'd washed himself. It felt like maintenance. Like tending to something he treasured to keep it in optimum working condition, something vital, something he needed to live. He thought of bandaging Ren's hands on that first day, so long ago. And Ren, for his part, allowed Hux to do this for him just as he had back then, except now they hovered close to one another and Hux's otherwise clinical ministrations were often interrupted by gentle exchanges of lips on skin and touches purely for the sake of touching.

The sun was almost set by the time the water in the barrel ran out and left them standing together, shivering slightly in the cold and growing dark. Ren stepped off of the shipping pallet Hux had put down to act as the shower floor and into the sopping wet grass to grab the towels. Hux didn't know what was supposed to happen next, but he was harder than he had ever been in recent memory, despite the chill, so he hoped Ren didn't expect to dry off and go straight back to the way things were before. He crossed his arms over his chest to conserve a bit of warmth, but when Ren turned back toward him he felt awkwardly like he should try to cover himself for modesty's sake. Ren made no such attempt, though, and from what Hux could see when he looked-while-trying-not-to-seem-like-he-was-looking, Ren was in a similar state as him, and he was... Proportionate. And gorgeous. Fucking hell, the fact that Ren had always been required to wear clothes in public was a crime against both science and nature.

Ren caught the direction of his gaze despite the fact that he was trying to be subtle, and the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly as he offered Hux a towel, which he gladly took and began scrubbing himself dry. He tried very hard not to watch Ren dry off, but he couldn't take his eyes away. He suspected Ren might be making a show of it for him, dragging the towel over his skin in slow strokes so it could absorb all the moisture, but it was innocent enough that he may just as likely have been oblivious to the effect he was having on Hux. Once he was as dry as he could make himself without the convenience of a hairdryer, Hux self consciously tied his towel around his waist whereas Ren draped his around his shoulders to catch any lingering drips from his hair. Hux did his very best to keep his eyes on Ren's face when he bent down to retrieve the stack of neatly folded clothes and pushed them into Hux's arms. "These are yours, I think they'll fit. Come on. It's getting dark."

Hux let Ren lead the way inside and admired the view of Ren climbing the ladder to the loft while shamelessly naked, then tucked the clothing in the crook of his elbow and followed suit. Once he reached the top, he stood fixed in place for a moment, unsure of what he should do. Would it be too presumptuous of him to go to Ren's bed? If he went to his own bed, would Ren follow or assume he wasn't interested in anything more? He stared down at the bundle of clothing clamped under his arm for a moment, feeling lost until Ren answered the question for him by taking his wrist in a surprisingly gentle grip and giving it a small, beckoning tug. Hux let out a breath of relief and gladly followed, dropping the bundle of clothing carelessly at the foot of Ren's mattress as he knelt and crawled into the space Ren left for him when he lay down.

Ren pulled the comforter up over them both, enveloping Hux in his arms as he did so, and Hux shivered violently against Ren's chest for a few moments as his skin warmed. For a moment he thought this might be it for the evening, they were just going to lie together and he'd have to think about calculus or something until his erection gave up and allowed him to sleep. But then there was the brush of Ren's nose lightly nudging along his own, guiding him into position for Ren to capture his mouth again, and Hux practically swooned into it.

He'd noted the size of Ren's hands before, but never allowed himself to consider what they would feel like splayed across his back, one of them sliding down his spine, leaving a path of warmth in its wake on its way to cup what felt like an entire half of his ass in one broad palm. Ren used his grip there to pull Hux tightly against him until their cocks were both nestled snugly together within the press of their bellies. It was all Hux could do not to cling to Ren, hook a leg over his hip and grind relentlessly against him until he came, but it had been such a long time since he'd let anyone touch him that he couldn't bear for it to end so quickly and with so little finesse. That didn't stop him from making breathy, desperate sounds when Ren broke their kiss to suck a bruise into his neck and rolled his hips against him, slow and merciless. Hux took advantage of the position to delicately sink his teeth into the curve of Ren's ear, and he was rewarded with a warm rumble of pleasure that reverberated from Ren's chest into his.

It wasn't long before it wasn't enough. Not enough contact. Not enough movement. He couldn't touch enough of Ren with one arm restricted between his side and the mattress. Too much of Ren was infuriatingly out of reach of his mouth. He gave in to his previous temptation and hooked his knee over Ren's hip, curling his calf tightly against Ren's thigh as though there were any possible way to pull Ren closer than he already was.

Ren took that as a cue to shift his weight and roll Hux onto his back so he could hover over him on his elbows. As Ren regarded him, Hux was terrified for a moment that Ren might come back to himself, remember where he was and who he was with and withdraw back into his armor of hostility. Hux didn't want to go back. Whoever or whatever he had been, he never wanted to be that again. At that moment, he wanted nothing to do with the state of existence he'd been living in before Ren kissed him. But instead of drawing away, Ren leaned down and kissed him again, and Hux clung to his shoulders to keep him there. God, how had he ever considered kissing to be superfluous before? But no one had ever kissed him like this. Like they were dying of thirst, and he was a wellspring. If any kiss had ever felt like this before, he never would have discounted it.

Ren rutted against him in slow thrusts, and Hux eagerly arched his hips up in counterpoint to Ren's movements. This was nothing like how he imagined sex with Ren might be. He always imagined Ren would be rough and direct, borderline violent, either demanding or selfishly taking what he wanted with minimal regard for his partner's pleasure. Sometimes in his little fantasies that was what he wanted, and he imagined giving himself over for Ren to fuck him hard and fast. Most of the time, though, he wanted to take control. He thought of making his own demands, bending Ren to his will with a firm grip on his cock until Ren begged to come, or for Hux to fuck him, or whatever Hux was in the mood to hear him beg for. This was so far off from any of that. So far off from any of his previous sexual encounters as well. 

It was nowhere near perfect. Somehow there seemed to be simultaneously too much and too little friction between them with pre-come and the lingering dampness after their shower the only things to ease the slide of skin on skin. He would have given anything for a bottle of lube right then, but he could make do with this. The imperfections made it real, though he wasn't sure if the reality of it made it better, or if it was more frightening considering how far he must have fallen from the reality he used to know for this to be happening. Ren's mouth left his to wander over his neck again, and with it gone Hux struggled to contain the embarrassing noises drifting up from his chest and pouring out of his throat. How was Ren so silent through all this? It was no fucking fair. When Ren stopped grinding against him and started moving downward it became easier to stay quiet, but he was no happier for it. "Ren-"

"It's okay, I'm not leaving." Ren's breath feathered against Hux's ribs when he spoke, and his words made Hux's breath catch. Then there was the cold brush of the tip of Ren's nose over his right nipple before it was briefly compassed in a warm mouth and a teasing flick of Ren's tongue drew an unexpected shudder out of him. 

He buried his right hand in the damp tendrils of Ren's hair in a weak effort to hold him in place, but Ren moved further downward, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he went. Hux gave in and let him go, wanting to trust Ren to navigate them both through this new territory, but there was a prickle of apprehension at the back of his mind when Ren's hand on his thigh guided his legs apart so he could settle between them. "Ren, saliva really isn't an adequate lubric- _ah!_ " Suddenly the head of his cock was engulfed in soft, wet heat and for a moment nothing else mattered. He tightened his grip in Ren's hair and resisted the urge to thrust mindlessly into his warm mouth. Hux propped himself up on one elbow because he _needed_ to see, and he cursed softly. If only there was more than weak moonlight filtering in through the frosted plastic windows to see by, he might truly be able to appreciate the sight in front of him. As it was, he could just make out the shape of Ren's plush lips stretched around the shaft of his cock as his head bobbed slowly, the tip of his nose brushing the trail of ginger hair below his navel on each pass. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen, but he wished he could make out details like how puffy and red those lips must be, already swollen from their kissing and now wrapped around his cock like they were crafted explicitly for this purpose.

Fuck, Ren was good at this, too. The way his tongue and lips curled around him, the perfect suction, the flutter in the back of his throat as he swallowed around him, all combined to bring Hux close to the edge before he had time to fully comprehend it. He tried to blurt out what he hoped was a warning just before he came so hard he thought he saw stars.

Ren must have caught the gist if his warning, because he swallowed Hux's release without missing a beat and continued to suck him through the aftermath until his hips stopped jerking. Hux let out what he thought was a truly pathetic sounding groan and slumped back onto the mattress when Ren finally pulled away and crawled back up to lie next to him. There was an edge of panic just starting to set in now because, unlike his past erotic fantasies, Ren was still here after he came, so he couldn't just roll over and forget this had ever happened. However, the sensation of Ren's dick bumping against his hip reminded him that this wasn't over yet. He'd never been the asshole who didn't reciprocate sexual favors, and he wasn't about to start now, so he set aside his panic and hoped that he could competently repay Ren for his mind-blowing orgasm. 

Typically he would reciprocate in kind, but Ren's substantial cock seemed like a bit more than his mouth could handle at the moment. Maybe he could work up to it another time, but Ren already had his cock in-hand, pumping it in slow, even strokes. That wouldn't do. "Let me..." He practically slurred the words as he rolled onto his side to face Ren and pushed at his chest to get him to lay back. Ren's eyes glinted in the low light as he watched Hux lap at his palm to give it a generous coating of slickness before he got started. Hux couldn't see Ren's face well enough to gauge his reaction, but he hoped Ren found it appealing.

"I thought you said saliva wasn't an adequate lubricant."

"It is for _this_. Do you want me to do it or not?" Hux snapped, though the prickle of irritation at the back of his neck was almost comforting.

"God, please." Ren's hand came to rest on Hux's hip and gave it a pleading squeeze, and Hux felt a throb of arousal despite his recent orgasm. That was a little too close to some of his fantasies, though it was immeasurably better. His imagination could never have captured the exact timbre and slightly breathy quality of Ren's voice when he begged, but now that he'd heard it once, he'd never forget it.

"Since you asked so nicely..." Hux gave his palm one final lick, then reached down to curl his fingers around Ren's thick cock. He gave it a gentle squeeze, which drew a soft hiss of breath out of Ren, then began to stroke it slowly with a firm grip.

Ren's head fell back against the pillow and he let out a low groan of pleasure that made Hux want to kiss him again just so he could swallow that sound. Instead, with Ren's eyes closed as he focused on his own pleasure, Hux finally let his eyes roam freely over Ren's exposed body in the dim, blueish light. In his fantasies Hux mostly concentrated on imagining what Ren's cock or his bare chest might look like, but there was so much more to appreciate in reality. Not that Ren's cock and chest weren't every bit as gorgeous as he'd suspected, but the most exquisite parts of him were parts he saw every day. His massive hands, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, his mouth- _god, his LIPS_. Even Ren's ridiculous nose was somehow impossibly erotic when he felt it pressed against him as Ren mouthed at various parts of his skin.

Ren's hips twitched in little upward thrusts against Hux's fist, but he remained mostly silent apart from his ragged breathing. Hux gave in to his previous urge and leaned down to kiss Ren as he swiped his thumb over the head of Ren's cock to gather the precome beading there and stroked him faster. This time when Ren moaned, he was there to taste it.

He moved down to drag his teeth and lips along Ren's neck, pausing to suck hard kisses into the side of Ren's throat and the hollow above his collarbone that he hoped would leave marks. Even though no one else would see them, _Hux_ wanted to see them, so no matter what happened in the morning there would be visual evidence that this had been real. As he sucked on the ridge of Ren's collarbone, he tightened his grip on Ren's cock and added a slow twist of his wrist. Ren rewarded him with a shout that sounded almost pained as he came suddenly, spurting over the clenched muscles of his abdomen. Hux slowed his movements and continued to stroke him through the little aftershocks of pleasure as he considered how best to deal with the mess, but the most efficient answer was obvious. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked away the residue of come from his palm and the backs of his fingers. It wasn't exactly a pleasant flavor, but he'd certainly tasted worse, and Ren hadn't had any qualms about swallowing _his_ come, so it only seemed fair. He moved down to slowly lap the come from Ren's stomach, and Ren let out a low groan and a curse, his cock twitching weakly. Hux felt a satisfying, victorious spark of accomplishment as he crawled back up to lay next to Ren again, who had his eyes open now and was looking at him strangely as his panting breaths slowly evened out.

That prickle of anxiety was returning again. Hux wasn't entirely sure what Ren expected of him now. He rarely had partners who stayed the night with him after sex, but it wasn't as though he and Ren had separate homes to go to. He could go across the loft to his own bed, but the thought of his cold, empty sheets was incredibly unappealing when _this_ bed had someone laying in it who put out heat like a radiator. But just as he was getting up the nerve to _ask_ Ren if he wanted him to go, Ren was pulling the plush comforter up over his shoulders again, encasing him in comforting warmth. Ren even went so far as to snake an arm around Hux's waist and pull him in to lay against his chest. "It's cold," he muttered like an excuse, "you should stay. It's warmer together."

Hux wasn't about to argue with that logic. He shifted a bit in Ren's arms until he found a way that their bodies fit together and came to rest with his face tucked into the crook or Ren's neck. Ren smelled like soap and sex and something that made him think of dry leaves and dead pine needles. The prickle of tears stung at the corners of his eyes again, but he didn't understand why he would be crying when he felt more warm and comfortable and safe than he'd felt in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY FUCKED! Also, SURPRISE! This is Soft Kylux™. I just figure, with all the violence and death around them, they both might be craving a little gentleness.


	7. Perfect Morning Scenario

Kylo woke before Hux in the early dawn, when the light was still low. He almost always woke before Hux, so that was normal, but he'd never woken with a mess of tousled orange hair right under his nose before. At least not this particular mess of tousled orange hair. He lay there, eyes crossed slightly to stare down at the top of Hux's head, waiting for the wave of dread and regret to hit him, but it didn't seem to be coming. But why should it? He and Hux fought a lot, but the animosity he used to feel every second he was in Hux's presence had started to cool a long time ago.

During his long drive the day before, he'd had plenty of time on his own to ponder over all the things he'd let himself avoid thinking about for months now. He thought about his parents, and while it still hurt more than a broken bone to think about them, it also gave him some motivation. They would want him to survive and keep fighting, even on days when survival felt like living hell. He also wondered about his uncle, and his parent's close friends who had been like an extended family to him when he was growing up. He wondered if any of them were still alive, and how likely it would be for him to see any of them again if they were. Ultimately he decided it would be best if he never found out what happened to any of them. That way he could comfort himself by imagining that wherever they were, they were safe and comfortable, and far away from any of the horrors he'd seen.

He also thought about Hux more than he ever wanted to admit. He tried to consider what it would be like if he kept driving and never went back. If he just left Hux there with all the supplies and went off to make a new life on his own. He couldn't, though. He would always worry about what might have become of Hux, and he wouldn't be able to write it off and imagine a best case scenario like he did with everyone else who's fate was in question, because in Hux's case he knew damned well what he left behind. He knew Hux's worst fear was being abandoned because he'd seen how he reacted any time Kylo so much as joked about leaving him behind. If Hux didn't die within the first week of being alone, he'd probably go completely out of his mind with fear and loneliness.

Even toying with the idea of leaving for good made him worry about Hux. If Hux got overwhelmed or froze up again, no one would be there to help him. He could see the scenario playing out in his mind's eye, and it made his chest tighten with panic just to think of it. There was no specific moment he could pinpoint where he first started to care about Hux's well-being, but at this point did it really matter? He cared about Hux now like an extension of himself, and he couldn't _stop_ caring any more than he could cut off his own arm. He thought over his last words to Hux before he left, and the more he thought about it the more surprised he was that it had taken him so long to realize how important Hux had become to him.

So once he'd determined that he would go back, ( _had to_ go back, there was no other option,) he started looking for department stores along the road. He found several, but most of them were pretty well raided even in the clothing and linen sections. It amazed him that so little was left in most stores he found when there were seemingly so few left alive to loot them. He stopped at 6 different stores before he managed to collect enough clothing and bathroom linens that he was satisfied. He also picked up what soap and laundry detergent he could find because, if Hux was building a shower, it only made sense that the next step would be to develop a means to clean their laundry as well. Particularly now that they actually would have laundry other than the clothes they were wearing and the sheets on their beds. 

They already had nice bedding since they'd taken all the sheets, pillows, and blankets they could from the mattress store, but he still picked up all the bedding he could find in each store. You never know when that shit might come in handy. Extra blankets could be life-saving if the weather got too cold. Maybe in the coldest days of the winter they could build a massive blanket fort and live inside it to keep warm. A lingering childish portion of his brain found that incredibly appealing, even though he was sure Hux would never agree to it. 

He encountered other people, as well, while he scavenged. He only saw them from a distance, and he was pretty sure they didn't see him, but it was still an encounter. One of the department stores was in a large plaza with several other stores, and while he was inside he saw two people through the entryway windows. A woman and a kid left one of the stores a few doors down and got into a caravan, each with an armload of things they had found. They looked harmless enough, but with the events of the previous day fresh in his mind he wasn't in any mood to make friendly overtures. Besides, there could have been more people inside the caravan. Or even worse, they might have known the two men from the day before. Maybe Fritz had been that kid's dad or something for all he knew. He knew rationally that the odds were slim, especially since he was nowhere near the area where the encounter from the day before had occurred, but the possibility was still there.

Those worries stirred up a fresh mess of complicated emotions he had absolutely no time or desire to deal with, but it also made him all the more determined to stay hidden from these people. He crouched behind a shelf until he heard the distant rumble of the caravan's engine as it pulled away, peeking out to see which way it was going, and only when he could no longer hear it did he feel safe to move again. He'd picked up his small bounty of t-shirts and socks and went out through the back loading door, where he'd parked the car so it couldn't be seen from the road. When he left, he made sure to go in the opposite direction from where the other people had gone. He made a couple more stops after that, trying not to be paranoid about having encountered people twice in as many days now after weeks and weeks of nothing, then he started back in the direction of home. Hux didn't need to know about this encounter. It would only worry him needlessly.

He really had not been planning what happened when he returned. Even after he'd spent several hours thinking about Hux and how he felt about him, the impulse to kiss him still came as a surprise. But the way Hux looked, so vulnerable and afraid as he stood naked and shivering with the frigid water pulling blotches of pink to the surface of his pale skin. The way Hux had looked _at_ him, like he'd brought him the sun itself rather than a bundle of clothing. When Hux reached out, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from taking his hand, and then taking him in his arms, and then kissing him because words couldn't communicate what he wanted to say. When Hux kissed him back so fiercely, he was hopelessly lost. There was no going back. And now, in the warm grey light of the following morning, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

Normally if he was first to wake in the morning when someone had stayed the night after sex, he liked to admire his partner in the soft, early sunlight. As often as he'd heard people complain that they looked terrible in the morning with disheveled hair/no makeup/puffy eyes/whatever their reasoning, Kylo couldn't disagree more. He loved the way people looked when they first awoke, or even just before when they were still relaxed and unguarded in sleep, doing nothing to hide the flaws they tried so hard to minimize during the day. He wished he could preserve people in those vulnerable moments and make them understand how beautiful they were in their imperfection. One time he thought to sketch one of his partners just before he woke to capture the perfect asymmetry of smudged eye makeup he hadn't had time to remove in their haste to get into bed the night before, the faded lipstick he could still vaguely taste and was surely smeared in traces over certain parts of his skin. He'd only just finished roughing out the shapes around his eyes when he woke and informed him it was creepy to draw people in their sleep, so he'd never tried to do it again. 

He'd taken some time to study Hux's relaxed face when he'd woken next to him on so many mornings in the car and recognized that he did have very beautiful features, but that was before. People always looked different after sex, when he could view them again through the eyes of a lover. He wanted to look at Hux now and see how he looked through this new filter, but Hux was pressed so tightly against him, head tucked under his chin, that he didn't think he could move without waking him. So he just lay still, waiting for Hux to wake or move on his own.

At times like these, he was always torn between letting his lovers sleep or kissing them awake. There was something enthralling about the sleepy sighs and hums of pleasure someone made when tenderly stirred into wakefulness with delicate touches and affection. He'd always envisioned a specific scenario for the ideal morning-after: Gently kissing his lover awake which would lead to a round of slow, lazy morning sex, followed by cooking them a nice post-coital breakfast and smiling at each other over steaming mugs of coffee. Thinking about it now made his heart ache faintly with loss because he never had managed that perfect combination. Either he or his partner would inevitably be in too much of a rush to get to class or to work to allow for lingering in bed and a home-cooked breakfast. 

Now his perfect morning wasn't even possible for the simple fact that his favorite breakfast, a classic combo of pancakes, bacon and eggs, was far beyond his reach. As he'd so often reminded Hux, they couldn't just go out to the store and get the things they wanted, and things like eggs, milk, and bacon couldn't really be scavenged. They might be able to find chickens and eggs, he might be able to figure out how to milk a cow, but even if they were lucky enough to find a pig he had no idea how to turn one into bacon. And coffee. Fuck, he missed coffee. At leas that was a problem he could fix. He could find coffee grounds and boil water, and surely he could put together a pour over dripper, but he'd been so focused on necessities that he hadn't even considered a simple luxury like that. But they had a shower now, so why the hell shouldn't he have a means to make coffee?

Breakfast aside, Hux was another problem-factor in his perfect-morning-scenario. Kylo wasn't presumptuous enough to assume that Hux wanted that sort of gentle affection from him, no matter how enthusiastic he'd been about it the night before. Last night Hux has been scared, desperate, so relieved not to be alone, and all of that surely affected the way he reacted. He would have to wait and see how Hux processed the situation when he woke.

It was only a few short minutes later that Hux stirred against his chest then lay still again, but Kylo could tell by the sound of his breathing that he was awake. He kept still as well, wanting to give Hux as long as he needed to come to terms with his predicament and what happened the night before. Eventually, Hux lifted his head to look at him, his eyes a soft, dusty blue in the pale light. Kylo managed the ghost of a drowsy smile and braced himself, hoping Hux wasn't about to flip out on him. "Hey."

Hux studied his face, his cheeks flushing a soft pink that looked so much different than the angry red it usually turned. "Hi." After a tense moment, he cautiously relaxed again and let his head rest back on the pillow. Still close, but far enough away to see Kylo's face. "Sorry, I-... I don't usually wake up next to people I had sex with the night before."

"Really. No boyfriend, then? Or girlfriend?"

"Not since high school. And that relationship was doomed from its inception."

"Why's that?"

"She was a girl."

Kylo's brows drew together in mild confusion. "Okay?"

Hux sighed and shifted his gaze away, shrugging his shoulders and adjusting the pillow under his head like he was feeling shy and awkward. "I'm gay, obviously. I only dated her because she was nice, and because turning her down in front of everyone would have looked suspicious. I was not popular, and I didn't want to come out and give the hyper-masculine bullies another reason to torture me. She was surprisingly understanding when I finally explained it all to her later, though. We 'dated' for about a month before amicably parting ways so she could go get a real boyfriend."

"I see." Apparently it had been all one-night stands for Hux since then. Part of Kylo wanted to ask about that, since Hux didn't really seem like the love-'em-and-leave-'em type to him, but he let it rest for now since Hux already seemed uncomfortable.

Hux chewed on his lower lip, looking very awkward again before he blurted out, "I never would have guessed you were gay. All this time, I had no clue."

Kylo huffed out a mildly irritated laugh. "I'm not."

All of Hux's nervousness melted away into anger and his eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. "The hell you're not. You can't 'no homo' your way out of this. There's no way that was your first time giving a blowjob."

"I meant I'm not _just_ attracted to men."

"Fine, bisexual, then."

"Pan."

Now it was Hux's turn to look confused. "Excuse me?"

"Pansexual."

"Right, of course." Hux rolled his eyes, and Kylo's lip curled into a snarl of annoyance.

"Don't be an asshole right now."

"Really? I thought you might be interested in that part of my anatomy," Hux said, smirking and clearly thinking he was clever.

Kylo would have been impressed that Hux had finally made a joke for once if he wasn't so irritated by his smugness. "Right, okay. Seriously, fuck you."

"God, I wish you would."

"Oh my god," Kylo groaned incredulously. He always knew Hux was irritating, but he never would have guessed he could be such a sassy little shit. If this was how Hux acted when he finally decided to loosen up, then Kylo wasn't sure he could take it. He got up suddenly and bent down to scoop Hux up off of the bed. "If you're gonna' be a little shit, then I'm gonna' throw your ass off the fucking loft."

"Ren, what the fuck?!" Hux flailed his limbs wildly for a moment before flinging his arms around Kylo's neck and hanging on for dear life. His voice was shrill with surprise and annoyance, but there wasn't a hint of fear even as Kylo stepped over to the edge of the loft and acted like he was going to throw him over.

Kylo's expression softened as he looked down at the angry, disheveled man in his arms. He held Hux's life in his hands, and while Hux used to tense in fear any time Kylo took a threatening step in his direction, he wasn't afraid now. "You know I wouldn't."

Hux let out an irritated sigh, though the solemn look in his eye spoke volumes. "Yes. I know."

Kylo turned back toward the bed again and gently set Hux down on his feet, but rather than stepping away Hux stayed where he was with his arms around Kylo's neck, staring into his eyes with an unreadable expression on his face. So Kylo kissed him, not knowing what else to do.

Hux kissed him back just as fiercely as he had the night before, but he pulled back more quickly than Kylo expected and rested their foreheads together instead. "You weren't joking about your morning breath. It really does tastes like something died in your mouth."

"You're such a fucking prick, I swear," Kylo replied, but an unbidden touch of affection crept into his voice and he shoved Hux back toward the mattress, angry at himself for being _fond_ of Hux's sass. Then he cursed when he realized all the new clothes he'd picked up the day before were still outside in the car. He was going to have to walk outside naked as the day he was born in the fucking cold morning air to get dressed. Not that it was much warmer inside the shed, but at least there was no wind. "My clothes are all outside in the car."

Hux's gaze roved over his naked form and his right eyebrow quirked upward. "You could just not wear clothes. I think I could learn to live with that."

Kylo rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder at Hux, who had picked up the pair of jeans Kylo gave him the night before from the foot of the bed. Kylo tried not to watch as Hux pulled them on, shimmying his hips into them in a way that obviously wasn't meant to be enticing, but even so Kylo couldn't stop himself from thinking it was a bit cute. He was glad to see the pants seemed to fit pretty well, except for being an inch or so too short. When his eyes drifted back up to Hux's face, he was looking at him with a strange, cocky expression, clearly expecting a response to his last little quip, and Kylo shook his head in bemusement. "What is happening? Who are you? Is this you trying to flirt right now? 'Cause it's fucking weird."

Hux stiffened and glared at him before picking up the long-sleeved t-shirt Kylo had handed him along with his jeans and shrugging into it. The graphic on the front had the words "Zombie Response Team" printed over an image of a skull with a shotgun and a baseball bat crossed behind it. Kylo hadn't looked at the design, only noting the size and that the shirt had long sleeves when he picked it up, but now he found the graphic morbidly hilarious. "It's worked before. I've charmed plenty of men into bed with me."

Ren nearly spit out a quip about Hux's charm getting them into bed but not being enough for them to stay until morning, but for once he held his tongue. They had something sort of nice going on here, and he didn't want to spoil it by being unnecessarily mean-spirited when Hux was being so uncharacteristically playful. Instead he snagged the duvet off of the bed, wrapping it around his shoulders like a bulky cape, and changed the topic back to clothes. "As much as it might entertain you, it's a little too cold for me to be running around naked all the time. Maybe when summer rolls around and it's 100 fucking degrees outside we'll see. For now I'm a little more concerned with not freezing my balls off."

"All right, agreed. I think it would be in both our best interest if your balls were intact," Hux grumbled in resignation.

"Great," Ren wrapped the blanket more tightly around his shoulders to block out the morning chill. "I don't suppose I could convince you to go out to the car and get a set of clothes for me? I'd rather not drag my blanket through the wet grass."

A little half-grin tugged at the corner of Hux's mouth and he raised an eyebrow in mock consideration. "You might be able to persuade me."

"I sucked your dick last night, jackass. You already owe me," Kylo replied flatly.

Hux huffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, fair enough. But then we need to go on a supply run," he muttered as he started down the ladder. "I absolutely intend to fuck you at some point, and we need actual lubricant for that to happen."

Kylo snorted out an incredulous laugh and curled back up on the bed to conserve warmth while he waited for his clothes. He always figured Hux for a snobbish prude, and he couldn't decide whether or not he was disappointed about being wrong on that count. Or maybe he'd been right, but the fact that they were essentially the only two people left in the world had broken down any high standards or hang-ups Hux may have had before. Either way, the prospective addition of mutual orgasms to their routine was bound to be a marked improvement to their lives, and that wasn't disappointing in the slightest.  
*

*  
"I hate this."

Kylo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and kept working. The past two days had been spent working together to come up with a feasible plan to reinforce the fence, and while their final plan was a much less complicated version of Hux's initial design, it was still a lot of work. They'd been digging holes for support posts all along the inside perimeter of the fence for nearly a day and a half, only stopping to eat or sleep. They still spent plenty of time arguing, but at least that was something they could do while they worked. It was exhausting work, but Hux pausing every fifteen minutes to declare how much he hated it wasn't making the process any easier. According to the little weather thermometer tacked to the side of one of the greenhouses the temperature was only in the mid 50s today, but Kylo was still covered in clammy sweat from the exertion. "I get it. Physical labor isn't your thing."

"It's not the hard work I have a problem with," Hux grumbled, though the way he stood breathing heavily and drenched in sweat had Kylo questioning the truth of that statement, "It's the inefficiency. This is taking forever, and equipment exists to make this job much faster and easier."

"And, once again, we can't exactly go out to the store and get that equipment. It was hard enough just to find a decent pair of pliers, so how would you expect to get your hands on a fucking post hole auger? Yes, this is taking a long time, and it fucking sucks, but shovels are what we have to work with, so suck it up," Kylo snapped. He wasn't exactly having fun himself, but he was just grateful that so far the soil they were digging in was fairly soft and not full rocks or tree roots. "You're not making this any better by complaining."

Hux gave a heavy sigh and jammed his shovel into the dirt with the extra force of his frustration. "I'm just-... I'm _venting_." A zombie that had been following them along the other side of the fence gave a particularly vicious lurch at Hux's raised voice, and Hux grimaced at it. "No one asked _your_ opinion." He went back to digging, but didn't stop talking. "I just miss the ability to go out and rent heavy equipment when necessary, or just hire men to come in and do things like this with machines."

"Or women."

"OR WOMEN! WHATEVER!"

Kylo's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. He'd done his very best not to let a gendered statement like that pass without comment ever since Hux implied he was sexist for telling him to woman-up. Maybe it was petty, but it wasn't like he had any other means to amuse himself. "Anyway, with what money?"

"Ha. All right, fair point. Technically it was a possibility, though, and I miss that."

"I miss a lot of things, but that's not one of them," Kylo said between moving a couple heavy shovels full of dirt. "I miss the internet."

"At least we can agree on that. I can't tell you the number of times I've wanted to google gardening and farming tips just since we've been here. Who knew plants were so finicky to keep alive?" Hux pried another chunk of soil out of the ground with a grunt. "I definitely miss easy information right at my fingertips."

"I miss memes."

"Memes?" Hux practically choked on the incredulity in his voice and had to take a second to cough and catch his breath a bit. " _That's_ what you miss about the internet?"

"Not _just_ memes, but yeah. That's probably the biggest part of it," He said. He stopped to check the depth of the hole he was working on and, satisfied, moved on to the next mark to start a new one. "They're a return to the Dadaist humor of the early 1900s that emerged around World War I, where absurdism and nonsense were common themes used in art to protest violence, war, and capitalist society. Memes are like a resurgence of that. Like neo-Dadaism. Or-I guess technically that was already it's own thing, so maybe more like... neo-neo-Dadaism."

Hux was quiet for a moment, then scoffed. "That's right, you were an art major. I forget sometimes that there actually is some degree of academic study involved in that, and it's not just adults sitting around making macaroni pictures and play-doh sculptures."

Kylo stopped working entirely and stood upright to stare at Hux for a moment, teeth clenched and the muscles in his jaw straining as he processed the sudden spike of fury before he spoke. "Wow. Sometimes _I_ forget what an elitist asshole you are. Just because we fucked _once_ doesn't suddenly give you free reign to be the absolute fucking worst. You _still_ think you're better than me because you studied _science_ while I studied _art_. You know what? I'll admit that technical shit like engineering has been an integral part of our survival thus far, but you know why our lives still _suck_ and you wonder every morning why you even bother to get out of bed and keep going? Because there's _no art!_ " He had the satisfaction of seeing shock and mild horror overcome Hux's face as he snatched his shovel and stormed off toward a mark several spots away. If Hux was going to be a prick, there was no reason to work right next to him.

"Ren!"

"You're a dick, and I'm done talking to you!" He shouted back over his shoulder without bothering to turn around. At the moment he was having a hard time remembering why he even gave a shit about Hux. Sure, things would be quiet and lonely without someone around to belittle him and complain constantly, but so what? Sex was a very recent development in their relationship, and it was good, but it sure as hell wasn't worth this. He didn't need Hux. He never had. Hux was the one who needed _him_ , but somehow Hux still had the fucking gall to act like Kylo was somehow _less_ than him. Kylo gritted his teeth and threw his anger behind each stab of his shovel at the ground.

A short moment later a Hux-shaped shadow fell over the hole he was digging, but he didn't look up, afraid that if he did he might finally give in and punch Hux in the face like he'd wanted to so many times in the past. He just kept working and waited for Hux to open his mouth and spew more of his contemptible bullshit and push him into a rage like he always did before. "I'm _sorry_..."

Those words were not at all what he had been expecting.

Kylo jammed his shovel into his pile of loose dirt and straightened up to look at Hux. He was reminded of Hux's apology on Day One of this mess their lives had become, looking up at him from the lawn in front of his parents' burning house with desperate terror in his eyes. At that time Hux had obviously only been apologizing out of fear that Kylo would leave him behind. This time he at least looked genuinely contrite, even though the apology itself sounded like Hux had begrudgingly forced himself to say it. He suspected on some level that Hux was only trying to make amends in the hope that Kylo might still want to fuck him but, motives aside, Kylo supposed he had to give him some credit for making the attempt. "Why do you always do that? You just have to take every possible opportunity to remind anyone around that you're _superior_. More than anything else, that's the _one thing_ about you that really pisses me off the most."

Hux's face scrunched up like an annoyed hamster and he made a sprawling gesture of frustration with one arm. "Because I _had_ to be! More than just being 'better,' I had to be the _best_!" He sighed heavily and shoved a hand through his sweat-damp hair in a pointless attempt to push it out of his eyes. He looked awkward and cautious, like he was trying to decide how to explain himself, or if he even wanted to. For once, Kylo actually _did_ want to hear what Hux had to say, so he leaned on his shovel, patiently waiting. "I went to private school with a bunch of rich, entitled brats. I was a bastard son of a servant with no clue who my father was, and the only reason I was in that school was because my mother's wealthy, childless employer paid for my education. To the other kids I was essentially a lower life-form from the circumstances of my birth, and I wanted to prove them wrong. So I had to beat every one of them, outperform them all in every way I could, because if I wasn't the best out of all my peers then it was just proof that they were right, and my parentage made me _lesser_ by default."

Kylo listened quietly until Hux finished, then gave a slow thoughtful nod. "So... you were like a Hermione in an entire school full of Slytherins."

Hux huffed in exasperation and tossed his head in another vain attempt to flip his hair out of his eyes. The overall effect made him look like a stereotypical snotty teen girl for a moment and Kylo had a hard time not laughing. "Yes, go on, reduce my entire life's story to a cobbled-together pop-culture analogy," Hux grumbled.

"What? You should take it as a compliment. Hermione was my favorite."

"I'm not Hermione!"

"Yeah, no shit. She wasn't a dick like you, she was kind-hearted. Anyway, you're obviously a Weasley."

Hux abruptly turned his back on Kylo and stomped away toward where he'd left his shovel, shouting over his shoulder as he went, "I hate you!" That was the last straw that caused Kylo to finally lose it and burst out laughing.

Their loud discussion had drawn the attention of a second zombie, both of them having made their way over to the fence next to Kylo and now they were doing their best to reach for him through the holes in the chain-link. He knew he'd have to deal with them soon, but for now he ignored them and allowed himself to enjoy his rare good mood for the few moments it would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late. I'm generally very stressed out all the time, and the holidays just kick that up into a whole new gear. I meant to have this entire thing finished by the time TLJ released, but that is obviously not going to happen because there are _at least_ 3 chapters left to go, and that's if I can convince myself to be concise and stick to writing only plot development. As you can see by this chapter, that is definitely not my strong suit. All I really want to write is just like 10 more chapters of nonsense and bickering okay. IDK if that's fun to read, but those are the most fun parts to write.  >_>;;;;;


	8. Some Things Change, but Others Never Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys are still figuring things out.

_Remove the casing on the steering column, find the wiring harness... battery wires... ignition wires... all right, don't get mixed up and fucking electrocute yourself..._ Hux bit his lip, brow furrowed in concentration as he twisted himself into an incredibly uncomfortable position in the cab of a large truck to get a good look at the wires he'd uncovered in the steering column. They'd been lucky enough that there was a delivery truck in fairly good condition on the plant nursery grounds, obviously gently used to transport live plants to nearby stores. Unfortunately, there were no keys to be found. Hux imagined the corpse of the person who used to drive it had probably wandered off with the keys in their pocket. It hadn't been a problem before because they had "The Falcon" as Ren so affectionately called it, and somehow it had yet to break down and leave them stranded for dead in the middle of nowhere. 

They couldn't haul lumber and sheet metal in a station wagon, though. At least not enough of it for the job they were doing to reinforce the fence. That left them to try hotwiring the truck, which was something Hux knew how to do _in theory_ , and Ren was perfectly happy to leave him to it since he'd once vaguely suggested it might be something he could do. It turned out to be more difficult than he'd expected. He was still certain he could do it, but it wasn't going to be a quick, 5-minute job he could rub in Ren's face like he'd initially hoped. It had taken him almost 10 minutes simply to get the casing off of the steering wheel column, and that was just embarrassing.

"Are you done yet?"

Hux couldn't see outside the truck from his current position hanging partially in between the seat and the floorboard, so Ren's sudden commentary startled him. Fortunately, it didn't startle him badly enough to smack his face on the steering wheel. He gritted his teeth and carried on cutting and stripping wires. "Do you hear the engine running, Ren?"

"Well, you made it sound so easy I just figured you'd be done already."

He could just imagine the shit-eating grin on Ren’s face that accompanied that comment. Then there was the distinctive _pop_ of a beverage can being opened, and Hux's face scrunched into a sneer at the mental image of Ren leaning against The Falcon, casually sipping one of the disgusting canned coffee drinks they'd found on a recent scavenging trip. Ren was thoroughly enjoying Hux's aggravation and discomfort while he was cramped under the steering wheel of the truck, trying not to get electrocuted. _Asshole. Stupid, smug, boorish, sexy son of a bitch!_

Hux wanted to kick himself. Why couldn't he even think of a proper string of insults for Ren without salacious thoughts of Rens lips, hands, cock, and even his hair jumping unbidden to the forefront in his mind like pornographic pop-up ads!? It was unnecessary, distracting, and had already caused more than one inconvenient erection. In any case, he couldn't afford to lose focus right now when he was working with live wires. Gritting his teeth, he firmly pushed away the sudden sense-memories of Ren's lightly stubbled chin scraping against his collarbone and soft lips on his neck as he twisted two wires together.

After working a few minutes longer he had all the necessary wires stripped, correct ones reconnected, and held the last two stripped wires in his hands. After moment of doubtful hesitation he struck the last two wires against each other, then released a victorious sigh when the starter turned over and the engine roared to life. He climbed out of the truck with an elated grin, but that faded back to his usual neutral expression when he looked across to where Ren stood waiting. As much as he wanted to be smug about his success, he fully anticipated Ren's unimpressed response to burst the balloon of pride swelling in his chest.

Instead of a dismissive remark, the corner of Ren's mouth quirked up in a grin and there was a spark of something suspiciously like fondness in his eye for a moment before he swooped in to plant a quick kiss on Hux's mouth. "Nice. C'mon, let's go so maybe we can get back before dark." With that he climbed up into the truck, leaving Hux blinking in confusion for a moment before his brain caught up with what had just happened.

If it weren't for the faint taste of overly-sweetened coffee lingering on his lips, Hux might have doubted what he’d just experienced. Still mildly baffled at the unexpected turn of events, he went around to the passenger’s side and climb into the seat. As he bucked his safety belt, Ren flashed him a crooked, toothy grin that made him look unacceptably roguish and charming, then put the truck in gear.  
*

*  
"What the fuck are you doing?"

Hux cringed internally at the thought of having to explain why he was on his knees with his ass in the air while he stared intently into a gap beneath a stack of lumber and made little coaxing tongue-clicks. At least the answer was an innocent one.

They'd been lucky enough to find a lumber yard that still had plenty of building materials left on their second day out searching, and this was their third trip out to fill the truck with as much as it could hold. They hadn't done much actual building on the reinforcements for the fence yet, but both had agreed it would be easiest to collect a majority of the necessary materials first, so they could focus on building without having to stop frequently and go track down more supplies. Hux was in the process of dragging a stack of long, wide boards to the truck (3 at a time, because that was as many as he could manage without the risk of injuring himself) when he'd caught sight of something small and furry skittering out of sight. "There's a cat," he said, sitting back on his heels to look at Ren.

"A cat." Ren already looked annoyed, but Hux cut him off before he could say anything else.

"Yes. It ran under there. I think I frightened it bashing all these boards around." He bent down again to look into the gap. He could just make out the light reflecting from its wide eyes as it cowered as far back as it could go. Hopefully he hadn't hurt it. The boards were so heavy that if they'd fallen on the cat they could have easily broken one of its little legs or something. For some reason he couldn't bear the thought that he might have done it any harm, and he needed to make sure it was all right.

"If it's afraid of you maybe you should, I dunno, leave it alone?"

"I just want to make sure it's not hurt!" Hux climbed back to his feet and glared at Ren as he stalked past him to the truck and fumbled around in the cab for the food he'd packed for their lunch. Hopefully food would draw the cat out and, fortunately, he'd brought a tin of tuna. If this didn't coax it out of hiding he'd have to give up, and then he might not be able to stop worrying about it for several days.

Ren huffed in annoyance and picked up a stack of five boards, hefting them onto his shoulder to carry. "I didn't expect you to care so much about a fucking stray cat that you'd give it our lunch."

"I'm not _giving it our lunch_ , I'm just trying to lure it out." Hux got back down onto his knees and popped open the top of the tuna tin, then fanned his hand over the top in an attempt to waft the scent into the gap.

"It survived this long on its own, Hux. It probably doesn't need your help."

"Maybe it doesn't, and if it seems fine I'll send it on its way," he grumbled quietly, not wanting to frighten the cat any more than it already was. It wasn't like he was being completely unreasonable, so he didn't know why Ren was making such a fuss.

When he bent down to look into the gap again, a small tingle of hope skittered across the tops of his shoulders and up the back of his neck when he noticed that the cat had perked its head up and was sniffing the air. Hastily, he set the lid to the tuna can on the ground and placed a sizable flake of fish on top of it, then shuffled backward away from the opening to give the cat a wide escape route if it wanted to run. After a few moments its little orange face poked out of the gap, sniffing cautiously for a moment before creeping forward to snatch the fish and dart back into the safety of the gap. Hux reached out to pile a bit more tuna onto the lid and the process repeated, only this time the cat wasn't as quick to dart away. After the third attempt it stayed next to the tuna lid, sniffing timidly and waiting to see if another bite of food would appear. When Hux reached out to deposit another large flake it almost darted off again, ducking away from his hand as though he might grab or strike it, but the scent of tuna on his fingers drew it close again. 

The cat appeared to be in decent health, if a bit skinny, with grassy green eyes, a dirty coat of striped ginger fur, a white muzzle and little white paws that had gone a drab shade of grey. When Hux dropped his most recent offering onto the lid, the cat snarfed it down quickly, then sniffed cautiously at Hux's outstretched hand for a moment before giving a few tentative licks to his tuna-scented fingertips. Once it determined that he wasn't a man-shaped undead monster hellbent on eating it, it bunted its head firmly into his palm and Hux found himself blinking back unexpected tears. This poor, frightened animal trusted him. He gently stroked its head and scratched its little chin and cheeks, and his voice cracked on a watery laugh when he was rewarded with an emphatic purr.

After that the cat climbed insistently onto his lap, little claws digging straight through denim and pricking his skin, seeking traction on the slanted surface of his thighs. There was a metallic _clink_ sound and Hux noticed a single tag hanging from her neck, bumping against a broken bell painted in chipped pearlescent enamel. The tag had an address and phone number, along with a name: Millicent. It seemed like an oddly formal name for a cat, but then he looked at the collar, faded pink with little reflective hearts, and noticed "miLiiE" written on it in a childish scrawl of permanent marker. He always gave his toys and little plastic army men stiff, formal sounding names when he was a child, and while he assumed that was because his own name was quite stiff and formal, maybe it was just something children tended to do. "Millie. Is that your name, sweetheart?" Millicent trilled and bunted her head against his chin.

Her velvety little ears felt cold, as did her damp nose and dirty little paws, and suddenly Hux's heart broke for her. She used to have a home and a family that kept her warm and well-fed, with a child who loved her and played with her. Yet now here she was, cold and alone. So thin her hip bones and ribs stuck out. So hungry she was willing to risk her life for a bite of tuna. Probably traumatized from monsters and other animals trying to eat her. So desperate for a bit of the good life she used to have that she would crawl happily into the lap of a stranger just because he was warm and human and hadn't attacked her.

Hux huddled around Millicent, gathering her gently against him to warm her up. She nudged her face into the opening of the ugly brown jacket Ren had given him to wear and tried to burrow enthusiastically inside until she was practically burying her cold nose in his armpit, rumbling like a tiny motor all the while. The tears Hux had been fighting back finally broke through and he burst into a fit of helpless sobs as he unzipped his jacket the rest of the way and tucked it around her, wanting nothing more than to keep her warm and safe, feed her until she was plump and happy, and make sure that nothing bad happened to her ever again.

Hux was so engrossed in the sweet, miserable creature curling up inside his jacket that he didn't even hear Ren's return approach, so the sudden voice startled him. "Oh my god. You're actually crying over a stray cat."

Now he was cringing in shame at letting Ren find him in such a pathetic state. He couldn't bear to look Ren in the eye, but he glared down at his knees nonetheless. "She's not a stray! Or she didn't used to be. She's wearing a collar. She had a home and a family." He could barely get the words out in between sniffles and stifled sobs, and he braced himself for the mockery he knew was coming.

Ren shook his head, the movement visible in Hux's peripheral vision. "You yell at me for leaving food and water for that person in the tree, but the plight of a _cat_ moves you to tears?" Ren made an indiscernible gesture and scoffed. "And you said you weren't giving it our lunch, but you fed it half the can of tuna already."

" _Your_ half is still there, so what do you care?" Hux snarled, finally looking up at Ren with a blotchy, tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes. "And why shouldn't this be more upsetting? People are _horrible_. All of them conniving, malicious beasts who can't be trusted, but she's just an innocent caught in this mess. There's not a malicious bone in her body. Just look at her." He pulled down the open edge of his jacket to reveal Millicent's darling little face to punctuate his point.

Ren distinctly did _not_ look at Millicent, instead rolling his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh of disgust which bordered on a groan. "Look, I don't care. Give the cat our entire fucking lunch, it's whatever, but I don't wanna' hear a single word about it if you get hungry before we get home."

Hux looked back down at the cat in his arms and stroked her cheek. He really didn't care for Ren's dramatics at the moment. Even if Millicent ate the entire can of tuna, they still had a can of green beans to split. It wasn't as though they were starving. He would give her the rest of the tuna in a moment, but for now he wanted to hold her a bit longer to make sure she was nice and warm before he let her go again. If he could make himself let her go at all. The thought of leaving her behind was dreadful. His eyes brimmed with fresh tears just considering it, so he bit the inside of his lip and steeled himself for a fight because he was going to bring this dear little cat home, and damn Ren if he dared to argue.

"Well? Are you gonna' put her in the fucking truck or what? We don't need her getting in the way while we finish loading up the rest of the shit we need."

Caught off guard again by the lack of argument and ridicule Hux looked at Ren, eyes wide with cautious optimism. When Ren did nothing more than look irritated and make a hurrying gesture toward the truck, Hux picked up the tuna can and stood, keeping Millicent tucked inside his jacket with her slight weight resting in the crook of his arm. He couldn't grasp the words he needed to express his gratefulness, so he simply surged forward to smash an awkward kiss on Ren's mouth before hurrying away without giving him a chance to respond. 

He left Millicent in the passenger's seat of the truck with the open can of tuna, still bundled warmly in his jacket. Embarrassment would be keeping his cheeks warm for a while yet, so he probably wouldn’t need the jacket again before they were ready to go.  
*

*  
By the time they got back to the plant nursery the sun was at an angle in the sky that Kylo had generally come to associate with "dinner time," and he checked the little watch around his wrist to confirm. After over a month it still felt weirdly retro to be wearing an analog watch, but since both of their cell phones had long since run out of charge, wrist watches, and the one little clock just inside the door of the shed, were their only reliable way of telling time. At least until they learned to better judge time by the sun, since neither of them had ever been "outdoorsy" enough to have experience guessing the hour by the sky or the angle of shadows at the start of this. Even so, Hux hardly ever wore his watch. Instead he just annoyed the shit out of Kylo by asking him the time 5-8 times a day. Hux _had_ a watch, and he used to wear it when they went out on supply runs where they might split up to scavenge separately, but ever since... since that day, they almost never left sight of one another outside the boundaries of the fence.

It was definitely dinner time according to his watch, and his stomach growled to remind him that he'd skipped lunch as well. It would suck to end up unloading the truck in the dark, though, so rather than go straight for the food like he wanted to, he went around to open up the back of the truck and get to work.

Meanwhile, Hux went straight inside with his new pet and Kylo fully expected him to fuck off and play with the damned cat for the rest of the day. After all, he'd already spent the entire ride home talking softly to her and petting her. It was weird because Kylo hadn't been aware that Hux was even capable of pitching his voice in a tone that might be considered soothing, but he had no trouble busting out the sweet talk for an animal. Apparently it was just people Hux had a problem with. On some levels Kylo could appreciate that, and he could certainly appreciate compassion for animals, but something about the situation still grated at his nerves.

Anger simmered at the back of his mind, and it was just about to boil over into a proper rage when Hux re-emerged from their house and went straight to helping him unload the truck without hesitation. Kylo took a deep breath, letting his anger slowly deflate along with his exhale. He was being unreasonable. Hux wasn't going to start ignoring him and their shared responsibilities in favor of a cat.

Working together they managed to unload the truck in about an hour, but the sun was already setting by the time they finished. It was a particularly cold day, the lack of sun only making it worse, so the idea of standing under the icy shower was especially unappealing. He was too tired to carry water to fill it, anyway. Hux seemed to silently agree with him, as he simply closed up the back of the truck and shuffled inside, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder and check that Kylo was following him. Kylo suppressed a groan over the soreness of his muscles as he followed Hux inside, latching the door behind him. They hadn't encountered many zombies that day, so all things considered they were both relatively clean. He resolved to bathe in the morning and hope it wouldn't be too horrendously cold then. 

He shoved a hand through his hair to get it out of his face as he watched Hux fuss with opening a couple cans of beef and vegetable soup for dinner. It had grown longer now than he'd let it get in close to a decade. He wished he had learned to braid it back the way his mother used to do, back when he'd first decided to let it grow long in his early teens. His parents hadn't even protested when he started doing the kind of weird, rebellious teen shit that had most other kids fighting with their parents. He wanted to have long hair, so Leia just showed him how to tie it in a ponytail when he wanted it out of his face, or braided it back for him when she caught him studying with a curtain of hair hanging over his notes. He went through an edgy clothing phase, and they gave him an allowance to buy his own clothes with the only stipulation being that he not get in trouble at school for dress code violations. He went through a makeup phase and Han had given him a fucking giftcard to Sephora for his birthday. They obviously didn't _get it_ most of the time, but they never really gave him shit for it, either.

Regret and sadness stabbed him in the heart like it always did when he thought of his parents, and he bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from crying. He'd fucked up so bad. Just because they'd been busy a lot didn't mean they hadn't loved him, and it was so obvious in hindsight. Maybe they didn't always understand, but they tried to support him, anyway. They might have even supported his career decision if he'd just given them a little time instead of throwing a fit and cutting them out of his life. God, he missed them.

"Hey..." Thankfully, Hux chose that exact moment to interrupt his thoughts, setting an open can with a spoon sticking out of it on the wooden work bench they'd adopted as their dining table. 

Kylo took a deep breath to dispel his melancholy thoughts and gave a silent nod of thanks, then sat on a stack of plastic crates to eat. A hot meal would have been fantastic right then, but he was too tired to build a fire. It was getting pretty dark, though, with the lingering light filtering in through the shed's plastic windows barely reaching down to where they were, so he struck a match and lit a little jar candle for light. As an afterthought, he held his soup can over the flame and stirred the contents slowly to let them warm a bit. Hux was already eating his cold, but he kept fishing the chunks of meat out and setting them aside on a scrap of plastic, presumably to feed them to the cat. "You know, you need protein, too. You can't just feed it all to that cat."

"Millicent. Her name is Millicent. Or Millie." Hux didn't even look up from his task to answer, but once he was satisfied that he'd picked out a generous portion of meat, he resumed eating.

Kylo's brows drew together and his nose wrinkled a bit in response to the name, but he didn't question it. "Millicent. Whatever. That doesn't change the point I was making."

"We don't have cat food, and she's so thin that she probably doesn't have the energy to hunt mice and things. I'm not exactly starving, so I think I can spare a few bites for her." Hux's tone had reverted to that snotty, superior voice he'd always used back when he was nagging Kylo at work, and Kylo bristled at the sound of it alone. Hux set his dinner aside and turned away sharply, taking the makeshift plastic plate of broth-soaked beef with him. He crouched down next to a pile of their dirty laundry, setting his offering down and making gentle little coaxing noises, and only then did Kylo notice the cat- Millicent- curled up on top of the pile. She perked up immediately when Hux approached and hopped down from her laundry-nest to devour the meat while Hux watched with a gentle smile that transformed his usually haughty expression into something soft and pleasant. 

All traces of that smile vanished when Hux returned to finish his soup, and somehow Kylo found that even more hurtful than Hux's usual scathing words. Suddenly he found that he was in no mood to put up with Hux's company, so he finished his soup quickly, went outside for a minute or two to brush his teeth and bring in a bucket of water for bathing in the morning, then climbed up to the loft to go to bed. He debated briefly whether or not to leave his clothes on for extra warmth, but decided to shuck them off for the sake of comfort before curling up tightly in his blanket. Hux could sleep in the laundry with his precious fucking _Millie_.

Kylo lay with his back toward the edge of the loft and a few minutes later there was the telltale sound of Hux climbing the ladder, the sliding sound of fabric-on-skin as Hux got undressed, then the now-familiar dip of Hux's weight as he sat on the edge of the mattress. They'd shared his bed since that first night they slept together, too physically exhausted to do much more than exchange hand-jobs and huddle together for shared warmth, so _of course_ Hux would assume he was welcome to sleep there again. "Are you going to share the blanket, or leave me to freeze to death?"

"You have your own bed, and your own blanket. It's right over there," Kylo mumbled, half his face smashed against his pillow.

"But yours is nicer. And it's warmer because it has _you_ in it," Hux said, matter-of-factly.

Kylo gritted his teeth and swallowed down the stream of hostility that threatened to pour out of his mouth. He didn't really expect Hux to be able to figure out that he was upset and wanted to be left alone when he wasn't even sure himself _why_ he was so upset. Or maybe he just refused to admit that he might be _jealous_ of a fucking _cat_. "Yeah, well-" He finally looked over his shoulder at Hux to respond, but paused and sat up when he saw a series of dark, ugly marks on the pale skin of Hux's left arm, visible in the waxing moonlight. "What the fuck? She clawed the shit out of you! Did you clean this?"

"I-" Hux looked momentarily surprised, then looked down at his arm and shook his head. "I forgot about it. I didn't realize she'd broken the skin that badly. She was just so frightened when we were riding in the truck." Kylo rolled his eyes and grabbed the box of first aid supplies he kept next to his stack of clean clothes while he listened to Hux ramble. "She's so malnourished and I'm not a vet, I don't know if she can recover from what she's been through or if she's going to die now no matter how much I feed her. I didn't want her last moments of life to be spent petrified by riding in a truck, so I was more focused on keeping her as calm and comfortable as possible."

Kylo looked up from pouring disinfectant onto a cotton swab with one brow raised in confusion. "Have you never had a cat before? They're not that fragile. Yeah, she's skinny, but cats can bounce back from worse than that. Unless she has some additional illnesses, but she looks pretty healthy to me."

Hux's face twitched into a slight grimace when Kylo began to gently swab the claw marks with disinfectant. The wounds themselves turned out to be nothing more than tiny punctures once the dried blood was cleaned away. "I've never had a cat, but I had fish when I was little. I couldn't seem to keep them alive. They kept spontaneously dying. According to the books I read about pet fish, they were just dying of stress. I was apparently incapable of providing a stress-free environment for an animal which does nothing more than drift gracefully around in water all its life."

Kylo snorted out an unexpected laugh and dabbed a bit of antibiotic onto the claw marks. "Fish are really touchy. Even the shape of the bowl you keep them in can kill them. Cats don't just spontaneously die of stress, at least not that I've ever heard. They're easy to take care of. Just feed them and clean up after them, and they take care of themselves." He stuck bandaids over the little wounds and started packing away the supplies before he continued, " _This_ shit isn't okay, though. 'Cat scratch fever' isn't just an annoying song, it's a real fucking thing. It could get infected, and there's no doctor for me to take you to. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Hux carefully prodded and inspected Kylo's work as he listened to him talk, but then looked up at the last few words with a complex expression somewhere in between sadness and hope, but with something else Kylo couldn't discern. He didn't have time to figure it out before Hux was suddenly leaning into his space to kiss him.

Any time Hux initiated a kiss, it always felt slightly like an ambush. As if Hux thought Kylo wouldn't allow it unless he was caught by surprise, even though Kylo had yet to ever turn him away. There was also a sense of urgency to his kisses that made Kylo think of a kid stealing from the candy bin at the grocery, trying to stuff as much as he could into his pockets before he got caught. It made Kylo wonder how many times in Hux's life he may have wanted something, simply because it was nice and he liked it, but was deprived because wanting it wasn't reason enough to justify the cost of having it. He also wondered how many times he would have to indulge Hux before he came to accept that a kiss was something Kylo would give him freely, and there was no need to steal them.

When Kylo returned the kiss, sliding his tongue past Hux's lips with his usual skill, Hux responded by practically crawling into his lap and knocking him over onto his back. Kylo was starting to get used to awkward fits of affection from Hux, even if he found them strange and a bit sad for what they implied about a lack of simple, casual affection in Hux's life prior to this. But now Hux was kissing his neck, sucking bruises where the old ones he'd put there before had almost finished healing, so this was not the time to think about that. He let his head fall back and groaned softly at the dull sting of bursting capillaries "Ahh... What's with you and sucking on my neck? Are you a vampire?"

Hux pulled away suddenly, brows drawn together with worry in the dim light that glinting on his wide eyes. "Sorry, I thought you liked- I like it when-"

"Shh, it's fine. I was teasing," Kylo interrupted, winding his arms around Hux's back and curving a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down again.

Hux practically deflated, all the air leaving his lungs in a heavy sigh, though whether it was from relief or exasperation Kylo couldn't tell. "You do that a lot," he murmured, lips so close that they grazed the corner of Kylo's mouth. “Teasing.” His tone of voice made it sound like a fact he'd only just realized.

"Do I?" Kylo's lips tugged upward on one side in a crooked grin as he tilted his head a bit to evade Hux's attempt to kiss him, nuzzling their noses together instead.

"Yes, you do. Stop it," Hux grumbled in protest, but Kylo could feel Hux's cock, hard and brushing against his thigh, negating his complaints.

Kylo's grin blossomed into a full-on smirk as he shifted to graze his thigh against Hux's cock, intentionally calculating the slight movement to be just enough to leave him wanting. "No."

Hux gave a frustrated growl in response and fully straddled Kylo's thigh, grinding his hips against him. Finally he caught Kylo's mouth in a rough kiss that was almost more of a bite as he gently snagged Kylo's lower lip between his teeth like a warning. "God, I hate you."

Something warm and delicate fluttered in Kylo's chest at Hux's declaration, and a quiet breath of laughter bubbled out of him just before he finally relented, allowing Hux to occupy his mouth again in a proper kiss. Then Hux nipped along his jaw on his way to sucking his earlobe into his mouth and biting it as well, drawing a low rumble of pleasure out of him. Kylo had never considered his ears to be particularly sensitive, but maybe that was because he'd always hated them and done his best to hide them at all times. The one part of himself he'd never really gotten over being self conscious about, and Hux not only tolerated them, but seemed genuinely fond of them for reasons Kylo couldn't guess. Fondness that permeated Hux's every touch, despite his words to the contrary. 

Hux's back felt chilled under Kylo's hands, but Hux always felt a bit cold. It made Kylo want to wrap around him and bleed his own body heat into him until he warmed. The skin over the small of Hux's back was pebbled slightly with goosebumps that made the fine hairs there stand up, creating a slightly fuzzy texture under Kylo's fingertips as he slid one hand down to palm Hux's cute little ass. The term "peach fuzz" drifted up from the depths of his mind, nearly making him laugh again, but he held it in. He didn't dare risk Hux thinking he was laughing at him or his skills as a lover. Especially since he was currently enjoying every bit of what Hux was doing, from the hand fisted in his hair to the subtle drag of Hux's belly against his cock as he rutted against his thigh.

He let his middle finger dip between the cheeks of Hux's ass and found the warm pucker there, pressing in deeper with little circular motions and drawing a breathy little sound out of Hux that went straight to his cock. While Hux pressed back against his teasing finger, his free hand reached for the literal bucket of condoms and lube packets. Lube was an obvious necessity but they’d decided (despite both being certain they were disease-free and having already exchanged bodily fluids, anyway) that condoms would at least make clean-up easier, so they collected those as well. They'd been lucky enough to find a convenience store while scavenging that still had plenty of both stashed in the stockroom. Kylo smirked again, unseen by Hux who was practically gnawing on his collarbone at the moment, remembering the look on Hux's face when he saw that the sex supplies they'd collected completely filled a 5-gallon bucket. He'd been all red-faced and exasperated, as if the thought that they might have enough sex in the future to warrant that much lube was beyond his scope of comprehension. 

Kylo was spared having to suppress another laugh at the memory when the feeling of Hux wrapping a slender hand around his dick made him groan instead. With renewed urgency, he nearly knocked the bucket of supplies over in his clumsy one-handed groping through its contents when he suddenly remembered something else. "Hey, did you wanna' fuck me?"

As soon as he said it, Kylo realized he really would prefer it that way at the moment. He was exhausted, his entire body was aching with fatigue, and the idea of laying back and leaving it to Hux to do all the work of getting him off seemed more appealing by the second. He wasn't usually so passive in bed, but why shouldn't he be lazy and let himself be serviced occasionally? He deserved it after so many days spent doing twice as much work as Hux.

Hux paused in his movements and drew back to meet Kylo's eyes, the blotchy pink of arousal evident on his cheeks even in the low light. His hair was all mussed and hanging in his eyes again the way Kylo knew he hated, but he was currently too busy being confused and mildy wary to notice. "What? You want me to?"

"You said you wanted to. Before. It's fine if not, I'm good either way." Before he even realized what he was doing, Kylo's questing left hand gave up on its search for lube and reached instead to push Hux's hair out of his face. It was still too short to tuck behind his ears so Kylo just left his hand there, resting on the side of Hux's head and holding the feathery strands back so he could see Hux's eyes. The gesture felt strangely intimate, overly familiar despite the fact that they were literally naked and wrapped around each other in bed, and not even for the first time. Or maybe the gentleness of the gesture seemed jarring and out of place compared to the needy and slightly rough tone Hux had set for this interlude. Kylo's brows drew together in consideration as he took in Hux's deer-in-headlights stare. "You _have_ been on top before, right?"

Whatever tender moment they may have been experiencing was shattered as Hux's nose scrunched up in offense. "Of course I have! I'm not so inexperienced as you obviously think I am."

Kylo shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Okay? I didn't mean it as an insult, I was just asking. Even if you were 'inexperienced,' there's nothing wrong with that. Some people have different priorities." Hux looked confused by that response, and like he was thinking entirely too hard about how to react, so Kylo continued. "I'm not asking you to set the terms for every time we fuck for the rest of our lives, I'm just asking what you want _right now_."

Hux still looked like he was struggling with how to answer and he sat back on his heels, still hard and straddling Kylo's thigh. Kylo wasn't happy with the distance between them so he followed, sitting up and using the hand still resting on Hux's face to pull him in for a kiss. Hux responded eagerly enough to that, so Kylo spoke quietly against Hux's lips between kisses. "Do you want me to fuck you? I'll give it to you any way you want, or you could ride my dick however you like it. I could suck you off again. Or I could get on my knees and you could fuck me however you want."

A shudder ran through Hux, accompanied by a breathy sound that was just shy of a moan. "God, yes."

"Yes to which?"

"All of it. Every bit, I want it all." One of Hux's hands grasped Kylo's hair almost desperately and his hips pressed forward, dragging the head of his cock across Kylo's side and leaving a cooling smear of precome there. "Ahh, but maybe for now, just the latter option?"

"Greedy," Kylo chastised, punctuating it with a gentle nip at Hux's lower lip, "I didn't know you were greedy."

"Of course I am. I want everything. I want to be the unquestioned ruler of this dystopian wasteland. I didn't think I made any secret of it." It was a struggle for Hux to get the words out between Kylo kissing him and laughing against his lips, but somehow he managed. For once he didn't seem bothered that Kylo was laughing at him.

Before he could get distracted again, Kylo reached to the bucket to grab a random fistful of supplies and shoved them against Hux's chest. Hux drew back in surprise and barely managed to catch (most of) the 15 or so packets, then nearly fell over when Kylo bucked him off so he could turn over onto his knees.

Hux grumbled something behind him, probably complaining about the abrupt behavior, but Kylo wasn't listening. He was too busy leaning down to rest his forehead against his folded arms and sticking his ass shamelessly in the air, expecting Hux to take the cue. There was still an uncomfortable chill in the loft, but hopefully soon he'd have a sex-heated Hux draped over his back to warm him up. But then a shiver ran through him that had nothing to do with the cold when Hux gave up on grumbling and moved to kneel directly behind him, sliding a smooth, cool hand up the length of his spine. "God, look at you."

If he was the sort of person who was prone to blushing, Kylo thought the raw lust in Hux's voice would have surely turned his face a whole new shade of red. But he did _not_ blush, ever (and if he were somehow blushing now, no one could see and no one would ever know.) He'd had partners who unabashedly enjoyed his body before, but with Hux it was different. Hux looked at him like he was genuinely angry that he found Kylo attractive. Like he would have done anything to be able to look at Kylo with nothing but scorn, but all the physical attributes that made him desirable kept getting in the way. He supposed he could understand, given the number of times he'd wanted to punch himself in the face for thinking something about Hux was cute or sexy when he should have found it aggravating at best.

Hux must have dropped the supplies because both of his hands were now sliding appreciatively over the expanse of Kylo's back and shoulders. It didn't even bother him that Hux was essentially petting him like a well-behaved animal because it _did_ feel nice on his aching muscles, and he would rather Hux be petting _him_ than that damned cat. He wished Hux would get on with fucking him, though, because this position wouldn't be comfortable forever and his knees were already a bit sore. "Are you gonna' fuck me this month, or should I settle in for a nap?"

Before he even finished his sentence Hux's hands twitched around his hips in an angry, almost possessive grasp. The word _greedy_ floated through Kylo's mind again, tinged with approval, then Hux's hands withdrew and he heard the muted crinkle of a packet being opened. He braced himself for the feeling of cold lube dribbling onto his ass, but he was pleasantly surprised to instead feel two slim, wet fingers only slightly cooler than his own body temperature pressing against his hole. Hux teased him for a moment with a slow, circular motion before sliding one finger easily inside, and Kylo let out a sharp breath at the sensation. It had been so long since he'd had someone else work him open like this, and Hux's delicate hands seemed perfectly suited to the task. 

Hux was stretching him open now, far more gradually and carefully than he would have expected. The smooth, methodical slide of his fingers was almost soothing, so Kylo let out a heavy breath and relaxed into it. He could feel Hux leaning over him, and the scratch of slight stubble accompanied by warm lips pressing a kiss to each of the dimples on his lower back. "You're always so quiet through all this. I hate it. How am I supposed to know if you like something?" Hux's breath tickled his skin, making him shiver again.

"Easy. If I _don't_ like it, I'll tell you" Kylo mumbled. He'd meant for it to come out as an angry snap, but it sounded lazy, almost slurred. Whatever, he wasn't actually angry, anyway. He wished he could see Hux's face, though. He always preferred to see his partner's face so he could gauge their pleasure and guess what they wanted, but he tried to remind himself not to worry about that. He'd relinquished all of that responsibility to Hux for tonight by choosing this position. Trusting Hux to adequately pleasure them both was more difficult than he'd expected, though, and as much as he might want to be lazy for once, he also really wanted to be the one wringing addictive little noises of pleasure out of his partner. This way he felt almost disconnected from Hux, more like a tool for Hux's pleasure rather than a mutual participant. It wasn't ideal, but Hux’s touch still felt nice.

Hux was much better at this than he'd expected. Lightyears better than the last person he'd allowed to take control and fuck him this way. The last person hadn’t hurt him or anything, but it ended up being probably the most awkward and uncomfortable sexual experience of his life. That person had been quick and impatient with prep, which wasn't the worst thing on its own. He enjoyed rough sex on occasion, but when the guy started yelling for him to "take it like a bitch," all he'd been able to think about was how his mother would have grounded him for a fucking year if she'd ever heard him talk like that. At that point all he'd been able to do was cringe, try to think about anything other than his mother, and wait for it to be over.

God, his mother. Kylo felt a sudden tightness in his chest and- _Oh shit. Shit, shit-shit-fuck-shit_ \- this was _not_ what he wanted to think about right now. Oh, god-fucking-damnit, he hadn't taken dick in _for-fucking-ever_ and now his brain was going to ruin it for him. He tried to think of anything else, to concentrate on what Hux was doing, but the damage was done already. His dick was flagging, and sex was officially ruined for the rest of his life. _FUCK!_ He gritted his teeth and tried to decide if he should just tell Hux to stop, but Hux's hand had already stilled and he withdrew. "Am I doing something wrong?"

Kylo let out a heavy breath of relief, his spine sagging downward as he let his muscles relax. "Fuck. No, it's not- You're doing everything right, this just isn't gonna' work for me," he groaned, slumping over onto his side. "I just started thinking about the last guy who fucked me doggy-style like that, which was _the worst_ sex I've ever had in my life 'cause he kept saying all this derogatory sexist shit, which made me think about my mom 'cause she's really outspoken about that kind of shit, and- I'm sorry. I am fucking this up _so bad_." He was so fucking embarrassed. He wanted to just pull the blanket over his head and hide in bed for the rest of his life, but that wouldn't solve anything so instead he flopped onto his back and flung his arm across his face so at least he wouldn't have to look at Hux.

"... You were thinking about your mother while I was fingering you?"

"No! God, that's disgusting! It's not like that. Just, my brain kinda' spins out of control sometimes and I can't stop thinking about stuff, no matter how much I don't wanna' think about it," Kylo said bitterly, his face feeling hot and tears of humiliation prickling at his eyes. _Do_ not _cry, you pathetic sack of shit. DO NOT-_

Kylo was already half-way down a spiralling tunnel of self-loathing when he felt Hux drop down onto the mattress beside him with a sigh. "Calm down. This is not the most awkward sexual experience I've ever had."

Kylo shifted a bit to peek at Hux from under his forearm, bracing himself to face Hux's patented sneer but instead he found a surprisingly gentle expression in its place. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not! I've had my share of awkward and failed sexual encounters. I won't share the details right now because I haven't given up hope of an orgasm tonight, either with or without you, and if I relive any of those mortifying incidents I doubt I'll be able to get it up again for a week." Hux lounged on his side, propped up on his elbow with the blanket pulled modestly around his waist, looking anxious despite his obvious attempts to seem relaxed. He tentatively reached out to trace a pattern connecting a few of the moles on Kylo's chest with the tip of his index finger, and Kylo let his arm fall heavily to the mattress, watching in mild fascination. It was like seeing Hux carefully test the boundaries of familiarity between them by seeing how much not-strictly-sexual touching he could get away with. "So that, ah, position-"

"Doggy-style?"

"Eugh, I can't call it that. It makes it sound so-... Anyway, so _that_ obviously isn't working for you, but would you want to try something else?" Hux was obviously still hard, but keeping his hips a polite distance away to prevent his dick from pressing against Kylo's thigh. It was sort of cute how Hux had this weird sense of courtesy that surfaced at odd times. "Or do you want to, ah, talk?... I mean, it might be helpful, for future reference-"

Kylo rolled his eyes. "Don't strain yourself trying to act like you care," he said dryly. A brief expression of hurt fluttered over Hux’s face at that comment and Kylo wished he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. They probably _should_ talk, but he really wasn't in the mood for a mentally exhausting exploration of his feelings at the moment. They could talk another time, after the work on the fence was done and the fear of outsiders wasn’t as fresh. For now, Kylo sighed and pressed on. "It's not a big deal. I get caught up in my own head sometimes... It's better if I can see you. It helps me focus on _you_ instead of whatever bullshit my subconscious decides to puke up."

"Charming," Hux said, nose wrinkling in distaste. "By the way, you're a liar. You said you'd tell me if you didn't like something, so I can't trust you now." Rather than looking at Kylo's face, his eyes focused on his own hand as it went from tracing moles to spreading out over Kylo's left pectoral and lightly circling the stiff nipple with the blunt edge of his thumb nail. Kylo thought he should be annoyed or find it demeaning that Hux was essentially laying there fondling his chest, but instead the touch was oddly calming, taking the sting out of Hux's words. "I'm not sure if I can even fuck you now, because how will I know if you're enjoying it?"

"I was about to tell you! And I _was_ enjoying it, up until my own brain fucked it up," Kylo snapped, more angry at himself than anything else. "Anyway, I'd still rather you fuck me right now, 'cause I'm fucking exhausted from doing twice as much work as you all the time. I’d really rather just lay here and let you do all the work for a change. So you can fuck me, or ride me. Your choice." He shifted without thinking to press into Hux's open hand as it meandered over his sternum, along his ribs, and stroked over his abdomen, the gentle reverence of the touch was at odds with their arguing. He was getting hard again.

"Hmm. I would argue that it's a fair arrangement, since you have twice as much muscle." Hux's wandering hand settled on Kylo's thigh, giving the large muscle there a little squeeze for emphasis.

“God, you’re an asshole.” Kylo expected Hux to deny his assessment of their division of labor, but somehow it was even more annoying that he admitted it was true. Hux grinned at the insult like he'd just won a prize, then leaned in and latched on to a patch of skin just above Kylo's pulse point and sucked a fresh bruise there. Kylo's breath hitched at the little burst of pain and he tried not to shudder. "Nnh. Vampiric-asshole," he amended.

Hux released the patch of skin in favor of pressing a line of soft kisses along his jaw with another thoughtful hum. "You never said you didn't like it, though," he said, a rare edge of playfulness in his voice.

"No, I didn't." Kylo turned his head, bumping his nose against Hux's to guide him into a proper kiss. Hux responded as enthusiastically as always, sliding his tongue between Kylo's parted lips and curling it in an admirable imitation of what Kylo liked to think of as his signature technique. A different sort of tightness gripped his chest and spread like a warm hand over his heart at the thought that Hux was taking intimate little things like this from him and making them his own.

After clashing lips for a moment or two, Hux gave up on any semblance of politeness and pushed forward to grind shamelessly against Kylo's thigh. Kylo hummed his approval into Hux's mouth and reached down to take hold of his own straining dick, already becoming impatient again. “Ahh, fuck. Hurry up. I wanna’ get off so I can go to sleep.”

“How did I ever get so lucky? You’re such a romantic lover.” Even though Hux spoke with flat sarcasm, Kylo still felt his heart jump a bit at the last word. Whereas he might use that word in his head to refer to anyone he slept with, he was careful not to speak it aloud. It usually meant something different, something more, when actually spoken. Their eyes met, and Hux’s flooded with panic.

In absolutely no mood to be derailed again, Kylo pulled Hux close by the nape of his neck and kissed him hard. This wasn’t the time to be worrying about the details of whatever this was between them. This series of abrasive interactions during the day that smoothed into uncanny exchanges of gentleness and pleasure when they lay in bed together at night. They were just two people clinging to what little comfort was left to them in this world of perpetual horrors. Maybe it didn’t mean anything beyond that. Or maybe that alone made their connection invaluable. Whatever it was, Kylo couldn’t shake the sense that it was the sort of fragile thing that would be destroyed by a thorough examination, so he tried not to think about it. He didn’t want to think about anything. All he wanted was for Hux to fuck all the thoughts out of his head in the hopes that they wouldn’t be back until morning, so he could get a peaceful night’s sleep. He gnawed gently at Hux’s lower lip for a moment when they broke apart to breathe, and he could feel the pulse in Hux’s neck hammering beneath his palm. “Why don’t you shut up and fuck me already?”

Hux let out a snort of disgust, but settled in between Kylo’s legs nonetheless, nudging them apart with his knees to make room for himself. “If you really want me to do all the work, then stop touching yourself. I won’t have you claiming you do two thirds of the work in bed as well.”

“Pretty sure I have, up until now,” Kylo said, the corner of his mouth quirking in a smirk he was pretty sure Hux found infuriating. He did as requested, though, releasing his cock and reaching up to cross his arms over his head instead. “Better? Oh, hang on-” He grabbed the pillow from Hux’s side of the bed and lifted up enough to shove it under his lower back, then resumed his relaxed pose. “There. I’m all yours.”

Hux leaned forward, bracing himself on his forearms and hovering over Kylo in what would have been a promising way if it weren’t for the sneer on his face ruining it. “You could have used your own pillow instead of putting your ass all over mine.”

Kylo gritted his teeth, his love of annoying Hux at war with his growing frustration over the fact that Hux _still wasn’t fucking him yet._ “Holy fuck. If you’re gonna’ be a shit about it I’ll trade you pillows, but technically it’s under my lower back, not my ass.”

“It’s still ass-adjacent. It’s close enough that it’s touching your ass. Technicalities don’t change that.”

“But you love technicalities.”

Hux’s expression darkened into something borderline murderous, and Kylo fought back a wave of giddy laughter at the rollercoaster-drop feeling of fear and delight mingling in his gut. The semi-victorious sensation of knowing he’d finally crossed a line after toeing the edges of it for far too long, and he needed to run now or face the consequences. For a moment he thought Hux might punch him, or maybe even bite him, but instead he was surprised when Hux let out a snarl and kissed him fiercely, surging forward with his hips to grind their cocks together. Then he drew back and _did_ bite him, his lower lip, his jaw, his neck, just hard enough to hurt without doing any damage.

If these were the consequences of teasing Hux past his limits, Kylo would gladly suffer them any day. “Ahh, Fuck. That’s it, c’mon.”

Hux started to make his way downward, keeping his mouth, and occasionally his teeth, pressed to various parts of Kylo’s body as he went. He hissed grievances into Kylo’s skin all the while, each word coming out in a tickling feather of warm breath. “You’re _maddening._ Every single fucking thing you do _infuriates_ me. Why the hell do I put up with you?”

A breathy laugh bubbled out of Kylo, but he bit back the sarcastic response that went along with it. Hux was getting so close to where he wanted him and he dare not risk pissing him off any more than he already had. He looked down to watch Hux’s progress, but the orange fringe of his hair was long enough now to block whatever he may have been able to see in the dim light. Warm, damp breath ghosted over the head of his cock and he went tense with anticipation, only to slump back again with a needy groan of disappointment when Hux sat back on his heels again. “What the fuck? You’re gonna’ kill me.”

“Death would be too merciful for you,” Hux said, face grim and steely even as he picked up another packet of lube and tore it open, re-coating the first few fingers of his right hand liberally. “You’ve got me in a wholly un-merciful mood.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to beg,” Kylo said, cocky, taunting, but he immediately regretted his words. A sudden memory overcame him of being on his knees on the damp ground, two guns trained on his head. He remembered talking but he couldn’t remember a word of what he’d said, if he’d begged for his life that day or not. _Fuck-_

“No.” Hux’s response halted the memory’s playback as effectively as a slammed door. It was spoken so gently Kylo may not have believed the sound came out of Hux if he hadn’t seen his mouth form the word. Hux’s expression didn’t change, but the way the dull light caught in his eyes revealed a glimpse of something deep and troubled there, as if he’d seen Kylo’s mind threatening to collapse in on him again and he could guess exactly why. It only lasted a moment, though, and when Hux spoke again, his voice was cool and aloof once more as he tried to reclaim the tone of their banter. “I wouldn’t expect anyone as pig-headed as you to beg for anything.”

Kylo thought he might start begging regardless when Hux nudged his thighs further apart and pushed his right knee up toward his chest. “You’d be surprised,” he said, the anticipation nearly too much watching Hux reach down to tease his hole with one slick finger, as though he hadn’t already done most of the work of opening him up only moments ago. Just when he was about to complain again for Hux to hurry up, Hux went from teasing to sinking three slim fingers knuckle-deep into him. Kylo let out a startled breath and cursed softly at the faint burn. “Yeah, c’mon.”

“I don’t know why you’re so impatient when I’ve given you all this attention and meanwhile I’ve hardly been touched all night,” Hux said, punctuating the word “attention” with a small twist and crook of his fingers that dragged over Kylo’s prostate and pulled a surprised moan out of him. _Why did he never imagine Hux would be so good with his hands?_ “I should just wank and go to sleep, and leave you like this to fend for yourself.”

As nice as Hux’s nimble fingers were, Kylo still ached to take hold of his cock again. If he did, though, this would be over before Hux even got started, so he gripped the pillow under his head instead. “Why the fuck would you do that when you’ve already put in all the effort to get my ass ready?”

“I _wouldn’t_ , but you would fully deserve it if I did.” Hux sat back again, slowly withdrawing his fingers, and Kylo held in a desperate noise of disappointment at the loss of contact and stimulation. Surely the wait was almost over because Hux was tearing open a condom now, hands fumbling just slightly in his haste to roll it onto his cock despite his cool façade.

Kylo’s heart pounded in his chest, his skin so heated that the chill in the air no longer bothered him. He gripped his raised knee to hold it up against his chest, where Hux had positioned it earlier, leaving himself exposed and waiting. Watching Hux watch him, pupils of his pale eyes blown wide with desire, as he slicked his cock. _C’mon, c’mon, c’mon-_

He could see Hux’s breath quicken as he moved in again, fitting Kylo’s bent knee over his narrow shoulder and letting it slide down to the crook of his elbow as he lined himself up. There was one last torturous pause as Hux searched his face, a touch of uncertainty in his eyes, but he must have found any answers he needed in Kylo’s expression because the next moment he was pushing inside. _Finally, FINALLY-_

“So sorry to keep you waiting,” Hux muttered, sarcastic despite the unsteadiness of his voice, and Kylo realized he must have spoken that last thought aloud. A shaky laugh tumbled out of him and he felt Hux go tense, looking up to meet his eyes again. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, god, don’t stop now, it’s just getting good.” Kylo was on the verge of begging again if Hux didn’t start moving soon, but then Hux held his gaze and began to roll his hips in long, slow thrusts. “ _Fuck._ ”

As long as it had been since anyone had fucked him, it had been even longer since he’d relinquished control to someone who had been anything other than rough with him. He thought there must be something about him, maybe his size and build, or maybe his abrupt speech and abrasive attitude, that inspired quick, rough sex, since that’s what most of his partners seemed to want. It wasn’t something that bothered him. He was open to pretty much anything as long as it was all consensual and no one suffered lasting injuries, but it made encounters where he was treated softly that much more exceptional just because of their rarity. 

Softness wasn’t something he’d expected from Hux, especially after they’d spent so much of the day being shitty to one another. But Hux was fucking him slow and deep, panting soft sounds of pleasure against his neck and pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses there that made his skin tingle. In the moment, he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever expected anything different than this.

They found an easy rhythm, Kylo hiking his left leg over Hux’s hip and around the small of his back in an effort to pull him closer. The angle was perfect, but his neglected dick throbbed for attention. When he slipped his hand between them to take himself in hand, Hux caught his wrist and he put up little resistance as Hux pinned his hand down to the mattress, lacing their fingers together in a gesture that somehow felt more intimate than any sex act they’d shared so far. “If you want me to do all the work, then let me do it.”

Kylo opened his mouth to protest, but Hux smothered his words with another forceful kiss and he relented, consciously ceding control again as Hux thrust into him, gradually picking up speed. He gripped Hux’s hand tightly and slid his free hand around to Hux’s back, clinging to him. Tension pooled in his belly, building despite his cock remaining untouched, and he realized he might actually come just like this.

Hux pulled away to breathe, panting heavily against Kylo’s chest as his movements grew more erratic just before he cried out sharply and shuddered through his orgasm. His hips went still and his full weight rested against Kylo for a moment before he moved again, pulling out slowly and propping himself up on his elbows.

The mushy heaviness of disappointment settled in and Kylo suppressed a regretful sigh as Hux moved to climb off of him, already resigned to finishing himself off with a few dissatisfying jerks. But instead of climbing off, Hux crawled downward again. Kylo let out a startled gasp at the unexpected sensation of a wet mouth engulfing the head of his cock, both hands snapping up to bury themselves in the surprisingly soft mop of Hux’s hair. Hux took him in deep, wrapping his fist around the base to cover the entire shaft, and began to bob his head, all lips and tongue and just the slightest hint of teeth. Kylo let his head drop back onto the pillow and closed his eyes to focus on the sensations, breath catching in his throat in quiet little noises that sounded desperate even to his own ears. He resisted the urge to pull on Hux’s hair, not daring to risk pissing Hux off at this critical moment when release was _so close_. Then Hux slid two fingers into his ass, pressing in _just there_ , and he came hard with a ragged shout.

When he opened his eyes again, Hux was looking incredibly pleased with himself as he tied off the condom and tossed it off the side of the mattress to be dealt with in the morning. For once, Kylo felt like that self-satisfied look was entirely deserved. “Holy shit. What the fuck?”

“I told you I wasn’t inexperienced,” Hux said smugly, flopping back down on his side of the mattress.

Without prompting Kylo took the pillow out from under his head and shoved it toward Hux, but it took a bit longer for him to summon the energy to lift his hips and drag the other pillow out from under himself to replace the first one. “When have I ever really questioned your sexual prowess?” Kylo mumbled. He might have made _assumptions_ in the past, but he was pretty sure he’d never spoken any of them aloud. “Anyway, that was no warning. There’s a pretty wide margin between ‘inexperienced’ and ‘capable of delivering a seriously mind-blowing fuck.’”

Hux accepted the pillow without comment, pulling it in place under his head with a little huff of amusement. “It probably helps that I’ve wanted to fuck you for years.”

Kylo’s brow quirked in curiosity. “Seriously? For years? I thought you loathed my very existence.”

“Loathing doesn’t always preclude physical attraction.”

Kylo grinned smugly at that. “So you thought I was so hot you wanted to hate-fuck me?”

“I guess you could put it that way,” Hux said, sounding pensive, then he tugged the comforter up over his shoulders and turned onto his side, facing away from Kylo. “I got you off, so you can shut up and go to sleep now.”

Confused by Hux’s sudden shift in mood, Kylo rolled over to face him. His arm brushed Hux’s back, which felt cool to the touch, and he had the impulse to huddle close and keep him warm. He placed a tentative hand on Hux’s hip, slid it slowly around his middle. Hux went tense at his touch, but he pressed closer anyway, burying his nose in Hux’s hair. “That didn’t seem like hate-fucking.”

The tension slowly bled out of Hux’s muscles as he slowly relaxed into Kylo’s hold, letting his back rest flush with Kylo’s chest and sighing softly. “I suppose not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm bad at life, but like... here's an extra long chapter full of bickering, akwardness, and a cat.
> 
>  
> 
> I agonized a lot over this chapter and had a lot of anxiety over posting it. Special thanks to [RaisedByCats](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisedByCats/pseuds/RaisedByCats), [sterne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sterne/pseuds/sterne), [kiyarasabel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyarasabel/pseuds/kiyarasabel) and other friendos for persistent encouragement, and to [kyluxtrashcompactor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxtrashcompactor/pseuds/kyluxtrashcompactor) for looking it over and reassuring me it wasn't the steaming mountain of garbage I felt like it was. ILU ALL TT_TT


	9. Memes Aren't Funny Without the Internet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux loves his cat, and Ren is an asshole.
> 
> ALSO!! Hey, there is fanart!!!  
> [Sparrowlicious](http://sparrowlicious.tumblr.com/) who drew the original piece that inspired this whole thing also drew [**this tear-jerking aftermath from Chapter 1**](http://sparrowlicious.tumblr.com/post/166784748414/spooky-kylux-inktober-day-25-zombies-i-tried) some time ago and I forgot to link it!!  
>  More recently, [Jeusus](http://jeusus.tumblr.com/) drew [**this heart-wrenching moment from Chapter 8**](http://jeusus.tumblr.com/post/171575753598/hux-was-so-engrossed-in-the-sweet-miserable) and it gave me ten-billion feels.
> 
> I have these arts saved on my phone so I can look at them always. You guys are the best and I love you a whole lot. T_T♥♥♥

Having never actually owned any pet other than a fish, Hux had never experienced the pleasures of being woken up by a small, furry creature demanding to be fed. Even if he had, he probably wouldn’t have been prepared to endure a tiny, cold nose nudging itself up his left nostril and purring directly into his nasal passage. The unexpected sensation ripped him from sleep with a shocked yelp and he jerked his head backward to collide with something hard which started spewing a string of curses. While he cringed, holding the back of his head with one hand and furiously rubbing his nose with the other, his brain slowly caught up with the waking world and a realization dawned on him. “Millie?”

After blinking a few times, he spied the cat in question crouched only a few feet away, eyes wide and tail puffed out to twice its normal size. Behind him Ren sat up in bed, and Hux glanced back to see him wincing and holding the bridge of his nose, still cursing. “Fucking _what_ the _fuck!?_ ”

Hux rolled his eyes and leaned over the edge of the mattress, reaching out to the startled cat and making little kissing noises. “Come on, Millie. It’s okay. How the hell did you get up here?” Millicent sniffed cautiously before approaching again, her purr resuming full-force as she bunted her head into Hux’s palm. Hux smiled and sat up, gently gathering her onto his blanket-covered lap where she turned and purred and rubbed herself against every part of him she could reach. Her tiny claws still pricked his skin a bit everywhere she stepped despite the blanket, but she seemed so happy that he didn’t have the heart to push her off, so instead he did his best just to hold her still. “I’m sorry I scared you, darling. I guess you forgive me, though.”

Beside him, Ren let out a groan and slumped back onto the bed again, stretching and yanking on the blanket to curl up under it. “Cats can climb ladders. I saw it on YouTube,” he mumbled. “She’s probably hungry, but I dunno what the fuck we’re gonna’ feed her. I think there’s maybe one can of tuna left on the shelf.”

Hux was only half-listening to Ren, but the bits he caught made him worry a bit. Their food stores were getting low in items with animal protein, which hadn’t bothered him too much before. They’d gathered plenty of canned and dry beans, peanut butter, and a few other things high in plant-based proteins, but a cat couldn’t survive on that. “Do you think she’ll hunt?”

“Maybe. Some domestic cats don’t bother, but I assume she had to in order to survive for however long by herself,” Ren said. Millicent slipped loose of Hux’s hands and stepped cautiously over toward Ren, sniffing curiously until she hesitantly put her front paws on his chest and leaned close to sniff his face. For a moment Hux thought Ren would swat her away, but he just heaved a sighed and stroked her back, then gave her chin a little scratch that ratcheted up the volume of her purring. “She must not have been very good at it, though, with how skinny she is.”

Hux’s nose wrinkled in irritation and he gathered Millicent back onto his lap, huddling her away from Ren. “You don’t have to insult her. I’m sure she was doing her best.”

“I’m just making a point. She obviously needs more than what she can find for herself, so if you want to keep her alive she’ll need to be fed.” Ren rolled away and reached for a fresh set of clothes from the neat stack of clean laundry he kept by the bed, then stood up and stretched, gloriously naked and shivering a bit as the cool air hit his skin. Hux didn’t even try to hide his appreciation of the view in front of him, having gotten over his bashfulness at being caught staring when it became apparent that Ren had absolutely no shame or aversion to his lustful gaze. Unfortunately, it was over too soon as Ren draped his chosen clothes over one shoulder and started down the ladder to go wash before getting dressed. “You’ll probably need to carry her down the ladder. It’s way easier for them to climb up than it is to get back down.”

Millicent hopped down off of Hux’s lap and trotted over to the top of the ladder, looking back at Hux with a high-pitched mew. “I’m coming, hang on,” he sighed, then got up, shivering as he quickly snatched a huge, grey flannel shirt off of the floor slipped it on. It was a ridiculously oversized shirt, a bit loose-fitting even on Ren, and it was hideous. There was no sense denying it was _warm_ , though, so he could understand why Ren wore it as an extra layer of insulation under his jacket, regardless of how often Hux told him it was ugly. Millicent padded back over to weave around his ankles as he buttoned up the shirt, and he bent down to pick her up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you? I bet you were completely spoiled.” Her answering purr was all the confirmation he needed. Normally he wouldn’t have tolerated such entitled behavior from anyone, but this poor little animal didn’t know any better, and after all she’d been through he didn’t have the heart to deny her anything.

He tidied up a bit, picking up the trash from last night and kicking yesterday’s dirty clothes over the edge of the loft into the pile of dirty laundry below. Then he grabbed a fresh set of clothes for himself before heading down the ladder with Millicent rumbling away in the crook of his arm. Ren was already half-way through the process of bathing out of the cold bucket of water, so Hux set Millie down and went to fetch the last can of tuna for her while he waited his turn. “Come on, darling. You poor thing, all skin and bones.”

There was a scoffing sound from Ren’s direction, but Hux chose to ignore it. If Ren couldn’t handle him being kind to a helpless animal, that was Ren’s problem. Millie trilled and mewed pathetically when she heard the _pop_ of the tuna can opening, and Hux hurried to empty it onto the scrap of plastic he’d used as a makeshift dish for her the night before, worried about how hungry she must be. “There, sweetheart. Go on,” he murmured softly, smiling as she began to scarf down the tuna.

“Who said you could wear my ugly shirt?”

Hux’s smile melted away and he rolled his eyes again as he turned to see Ren approaching him, now dressed in jeans and pulling a t-shirt on over his head. “I didn’t want to stand around naked in the cold while I waited for you to finish, so I borrowed it.” When Ren just stared at him, unamused, he let his lips quirk into a sassy grin and a flirtatious lilt trickle into his voice. “What are you going to do, take it off me?”

Ren cocked his head slightly to the side and looked Hux over as if sizing him up, then walked around to stand behind him. A tingle of anticipation ran down Hux’s spine as Ren’s warm arms encircled him, his broad hands sliding up to his chest then slowly downward, unbuttoning the shirt as they went. Ren’s breath ghosted against the back of his neck and his cock stirred, already half hard. He shivered slightly as Ren eased the shirt off of his shoulders and let it slide down his arms.

Then cool air hit his back and he turned to see Ren walking away, shrugging into the shirt himself just before he reached the door and opened it. A gust of frigid wind blew in, and Hux scrambled to cover himself. “What the hell!?”

“Thanks for the shirt. You might want to get dressed; it’s cold out.”

“Asshole!”

“Yep.” With that Ren slipped outside, shutting the door behind him and leaving Hux to fume in solitude.

Hux angrily suppressed a shiver and noticed Millicent looking up at him curiously, her meal having been disturbed by their little spat. “Just ignore him, Millie. He’s a walking disaster, not worth a minute of your time,” he grumbled, but Millicent had already turned her attention back to her food.  
*

*  
When Hux went outside he found Ren sitting on an overturned bucket, hunched over a car battery and what appeared to be a heating coil. Next to him was a bag of ground coffee, a jug of drinking water, and an actual French press that Ren must have found at some point without Hux noticing. “I know you’re hopelessly addicted to caffeine, but is it really the best idea to try _building_ a coffee maker first thing in the morning when you’re desperate for your fix?”

“It’s fucking _coffee_ , Hux, not _heroin_ ,” Ren snapped, “and I’m not just trying to make coffee, I’m trying to make breakfast.” He shifted the heel of his booted foot to nudge a box of instant oatmeal packets that Hux hadn’t notice. “I’d just really like to be able to boil water quickly, without having to build a fire. We don’t have electricity, so I’m doing what I can with what I have.”

A tendril of guilt squirmed in Hux’s gut at the reminder that he still hadn’t fixed the generator, but he’d been in no hurry to do it since it burned fuel, which they needed to conserve. They had plenty of fuel _now_ , but it was a finite resource and there was no way to know how long they might need their current stores to last.

With a slow breath of resignation, Hux sat on a crate across from Ren to look at the mess he’d surely made of the wires he was working with, hoping some of it might salvageable. Then he blinked in surprise at what he saw. “Is that a power inverter circuit?”

“Yes. I know the difference between direct and alternating current, and that you can’t just connect any random thing to a car battery and expect it to work. How many times do I have to tell you I’m not an idiot before you believe me?”

Hux went tense and nearly sputtered out a defensive apology before he realized he hadn’t actually said or done anything to apologize for. Ren was just being slightly more shitty and irritable than usual, so Hux bit his tongue and kept silent. Hopefully Ren would manage to brew his damned coffee and be in a better mood afterward.

He felt useless just watching Ren work. His hands itched to take over the project and finish it himself. Ren certainly would _not_ appreciate his interference, so he just hugged his jacket around himself for warmth and watched Ren deftly twist the correct wires together and cover the connection with electrical tape. “You know, you could have done this inside, out of the wind.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want your stupid cat playing with the wires and getting in the way.”

Hux bristled. It was one thing for Ren to be shitty to him, but there was no reason to be shitty to a cat whose only crime was _existing_. “ _You_ were the one who told me to put her in the truck, Ren. If she’s such a _problem_ for you, then why did you suggest bringing her home with us?”

Ren dropped his project and flung the pliers onto the ground, then pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Holy shit, I don’t have a problem with your damned _cat_! I’m hungry, and I have a fucking headache, okay!?” He let his hands drop back to his lap, now clenched into fists, and Hux finally noticed his red-rimmed eyes and the puffy circles beneath them. Ren looked exhausted. Another pang of guilt twisted in his gut. How had he not noticed before now that Ren might be struggling? He thought again of how Ren was almost always awake before him and wondered how much sleep Ren was actually getting. For all he knew, Ren could have been lying awake all night while he slept soundly.

After a few moments of tense silence, Ren picked up his project again and Hux went back inside, determined to find a way to make himself useful rather than sitting around like a fool while Ren worked. 

Inside the shed, Millicent had finished her tuna and curled up on top of the laundry pile once again. _Hell, the laundry._ They had enough clean clothing to get them through a few more days, but they really needed to do the washing. That was a puzzle he was really not looking forward to solving. It could wait until later in the day, at least. For now, he gathered a pot and a few utensils, along with a couple of empty cans they’d been using as all-purpose dishes. They really could stand to pick up some proper dishes at some point, it might make mealtimes feel just a little bit less depressing. Little comforts like that hadn’t been a priority, but their living situation was getting less dire by the day, so there was no reason they shouldn’t have actual plates and bowls, maybe even a little dish for Millicent. But that, too, would have to wait. His current focus was making sure Ren didn’t have a fucking meltdown due to lack of sleep and nutrition. 

With that last thought still in mind he grabbed a canister of protein powder from one of the shelves and went back out to check on Ren’s progress, but nearly ran straight into Ren when he opened the door. Ren glanced down at the odd assembly of items in Hux’s arms and took the pot from him without comment, then resumed his seat with his back to Hux. Seething quietly, Hux followed and dumped the rest of his burden on the ground in a loud clatter of tin and plastic before sitting across from Ren once more.

Ren didn’t even glance up in response to Hux’s noise and obvious anger, focusing instead on pouring water into the pot and setting the coil down into it in such a way that it would stay submerged with the wires a safe few inches above the water. Part of Hux stubbornly wished for Ren’s failure, but that resentful voice was quickly drowned out by hopeful thoughts of a hot breakfast when little bubbles started forming along the coil. Both of them leaned forward in silent anticipation, watching intently as the water came to a rolling boil within minutes. Ren let out a heavy sigh of relief, the faintest hint of a tired smile at the corners of his mouth. He disconnected the coil and measured coffee grounds into the press before carefully pouring in hot water and setting it down to steep. “That was so fucking easy. I should’ve done it weeks ago.”

Hux set up two of the empty cans and started making instant oatmeal while Ren stared avidly at the brewing coffee. The scent of warm sugar and cinnamon wafting up from the oatmeal as he stirred smelled like some sort of impossible decadence. “It doesn’t matter now. We’ve had other priorities,” he said. He tried to put aside the sudden bitterness at the revelation that Ren was probably just as capable as him at basic electrical work. Ren probably also knew damned well how to hotwire a car. _Insufferable bastard. That massive bag of dicks._ Shit. Now he was thinking about Ren’s dick again. This might be a very long day.

“What are you doing?” Ren had glanced up from his coffee just in time to catch Hux adding a scoop of protein powder to one of the cans of oatmeal. He watched Hux stir the powder in with his eyes narrowed in an expression more like confusion than suspicion.

Hux just offered Ren the supplemented can, but when Ren made no move to take it he set it down roughly next to Ren’s foot. “It’s not poisoned, you ass. Just eat it before it gets cold. I thought you could use a couple hundred extra calories and a boost of protein.”

“Like you _don’t_ need calories and protein? I don’t want _extra_ anything. How’s it fair for me to eat like twice as much while you starve?”

“I’m not starving!” Hux snarled. “Believe it or not, I eat more regularly _now_ than I ever did living on my own before all this. I might have even _gained_ a bit of weight since this started. My needs are being met, you’ve seen to that, but I don’t think yours are. You burn more calories than I do just by _existing_ with all your bloody muscles!” Ren looked like he wanted to protest, but his stomach chose that moment to growl audibly like scene straight out of a fucking cartoon. He looked away in embarrassment and snatched up the can, proceeding to eat quietly. Hux watched him take a couple of bites before mentally claiming his victory and digging into his own breakfast, suppressing a deep sigh of pleasure at the first bite. _When the hell had oatmeal become so fucking delicious?_

About half-way through savoring the best oatmeal he’d ever eaten in his life, Hux noticed that Ren had silently placed a can full of steaming coffee next to his foot at some point. He looked over to find Ren hunched over his own coffee. He’d wrapped part of his flannel shirt around the can to keep his hands from getting burned as he cradled it between his palms and breathed in the steam, waiting for it to cool enough to drink. 

Hux rarely drank coffee, since he’d always preferred tea, but if Ren was going to share his precious source of caffeine with him he wouldn’t complain. He supposed it was Ren’s attempt to balance the scales between them, since he hadn’t attempted to share any of the canned coffee or energy drinks they’d collected previously. In any case, Hux was grateful just to have a hot beverage to warm his hands for a while, since the remnants of his oatmeal were rapidly going cold. Once he finished eating, he pulled the sleeves of his jacket down over his hands to protect them from the heat and gingerly picked up his coffee, letting the warmth seep into his chilled fingers through the thick material. “We really ought to find a few mugs. Maybe even some dishes.”

Ren made a noncommittal noise and took a careful sip of his coffee, then let out a blissful moan that was borderline pornographic. “Oh my god, that’s perfect.”

Hux fought off a twinge of arousal by reminding himself how Ren had gotten him worked up and left him standing naked in the cold only a few minutes ago. “Feel better?”

“I’m getting there.”

Hux nodded and sipped his own coffee. It certainly wasn’t the worst coffee he’d ever tasted, and the warmth of it seemed to spread into his bones from the inside out. “Maybe we should take the day off. We’ve been going relentlessly for months without a break, except for Christmas.”

Ren shook his head. “We can’t afford breaks. We need food, the stupid plants need watering and shit, and the fence isn’t going to build itself. And now we have a cat to feed. We don’t have anything for her unless we go out and find something today.”

Everything Ren said was true, and maybe they couldn’t slack off completely, but Hux didn’t see how _taking it easy_ for one day could really be so terrible. And he still didn’t appreciate Ren talking about Millicent like she was a burden, but he was at least a little bit encouraged that Ren was now saying “we” instead of “you” when talking about her. Even if Ren thought she was a burden, at least she was one he seemed willing to share. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually. It may not be so easy to find cat food, but cats are carnivores. Any meat should do, shouldn’t it? I think we should try hunting. Wouldn’t something like a rabbit be big enough for the three of us to share?”

A few minutes passed with Ren continuing to stare contemplatively into his coffee until Hux started to wonder if Ren had even heard him. Just as Hux was about to speak up again, Ren drained the rest of his coffee and sighed. “I don’t think hunting will work. I don’t think we should use guns for anything other than emergencies. They’re too loud, and I don’t want to use up all our bullets trying to kill things that _don’t_ want to kill us.” He refilled his can with the last remnants of liquid from the coffee press and swirled it around a few times before drinking it as well. “Also, since we don’t have refrigeration, anything we can’t eat immediately is basically wasted.”

“All right, no guns, but what about trapping? Or fishing? We could just catch things as we need them for now so we don’t waste much, and work on means of preservation later.”

Ren shrugged and gathered up the “dishes” from their breakfast. “Look, if you want to try to put together some traps or whatever, we can give it a shot. It can’t hurt to have more sources of food available to us, but I don’t want to have to kill and clean something every fucking day just to feed the cat. We should try to find some shelf-stable food for her, too.”

“Okay, that sounds reasonable.” Hux stood and took the dishes from Ren, piling them into the pot with the remaining hot water. He almost always did the washing up, since he still didn’t trust Ren to wash things to his standard of cleanliness.

Ren raised a dubious eyebrow. “When am I _not_ reasonable?”

Hux cast a wary glance at Ren out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing as he went to fetch the soap and more water. Ren was clearly spoiling for a fight, and he wasn’t going to rise to the bait. Instead, he tried to think about potential means of preserving perishable foods. There had to be something that didn’t require electricity. If only he could _fucking google it._ How the hell did people survive before the internet put endless information right at their fingertips!? “We need to find a bookstore, or a library. There’s bound to be books on off-grid living, hunting, gardening, helpful things like that.”

“Sorry, Hux. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Millennials killed the book industry, so the printed word ceased to exist in like 2015,” Ren said, crowding Hux aside from the water barrel with his ridiculously broad shoulder so he could rinse out his coffee press.

Hux glared and tried to shoulder Ren out of his way, but hardly managed to budge him until he finished his task and moved out of the way on his own. “You’re absolutely hilarious,” he said, his voice conveying an utter lack of amusement. “I used to read textbooks from libraries all the time when I was young, since they were free and we didn’t have a computer.”

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

His shoulders went tense as he fought back a spike of irrational rage and finished rinsing the dishes. This obviously wasn’t even an actual conversation. Ren was just hell-bent on making him angry, and he couldn’t let him win. “If you’re going to talk in memes, you can piss off.”

“Trollface dot J-P-G.”

“I fucking hate you.”  
*

*  
Hunting, trapping, and fishing were all good ideas in theory, Kylo would admit that. He knew figuring out how to convert live animals into food was something they’d probably have to do at some point, but he’d been in no rush to delve into it. Firstly, he wasn’t fond of killing things. He wasn’t morally opposed to killing animals for food, especially in survival situations, but he’d really rather not be the one to do it. Secondly, as long as they _had_ food, he felt like his time and energy was better invested in things like improving the fence or scavenging tools and materials that might make their lives a little bit easier. Lastly, he really was not looking forward to muddling his way through figuring out how to skin and gut some poor dead animal to make it suitable to be cooked and eaten. He’d practiced drawing and sculpting animals a lot in his classes and he felt like he had a strong knowledge of the anatomy, but he was pretty sure nothing would look as clear and simple as an anatomical drawing lesson once he cut it open.

Fishing was easier. He’d been fishing several times when he was a kid, and he’d seen his dad and uncles clean fish millions of times on every weekend trip he’d ever been on with them, so he at least knew how it was done. Even with that knowledge, he still mangled the first three fish he tried to clean to the point that they were completely wasted. He finally managed to cut one decent fillet out of the fourth one, which was lucky because four was exactly how many fish he’d had the patience to catch. One fillet was enough to feed the cat, and that was the primary goal of this messy endeavor, so he guessed he should call it a win. At least he was more successful than Hux had been with his traps.

Hux’s traps were brilliant in theory, but either the animals were too clever to spring them, or the bait wasn’t enough to attract them. The one animal so far that _had_ been unfortunate enough to wander into one of Hux’s traps was eaten by zombies before they could come back and collect it. It was almost worth the loss to see how incredulously angry Hux got when they went to check the trap and found a pair of zombies gnawing on the remains of whatever they’d caught. It would have been absolutely hilarious if the whole situation wasn’t so fucking exhausting and sad.

Two whole days they’d been working on this. Two days, and all they had to show for it was one edible piece of fish and a slightly better idea of what _not_ to do. Maybe fishing was a viable option now, but he could only stand so much of it at a time. It was dull and quiet and left him alone with his thoughts for entirely too long. He used to listen to music during quiet activities to keep his brain from eating itself alive with negative thoughts, but even a simple distraction like that was beyond his grasp. It might have helped if he could carry on a companionable conversation with Hux, but that didn’t seem very likely, either.

Both he and Hux were beyond frustrated and they’d been taking it out on each other, their usual bickering souring to something more noxious. They’d hardly even spoken except to criticize and snarl at each other. It had gotten so bad the previous day that they’d slept separately that night, Hux pointedly making up the other bed with fresh sheets and an extra blanket while Kylo curled up in his own bed and aggressively ignored him. That morning he’d awoken with a warm ball of fur curled up on his side, right in the dip between his hip and the bottom of his ribs. He’d been annoyed at first, but the look of shear betrayal Hux cast at Millicent when he got up and saw her there made the situation immediately more tolerable.

Now, after a quick breakfast (a weird but not entirely unpleasant combination of peanut butter and canned peaches) and an entire pot of coffee which he did _not_ share, he was fuelling up the car. There were too many things they needed which couldn’t be found by spending days fucking around in the woods. They needed screws and nails to build the fucking fence. They needed food for the stupid cat, because stupid Hux couldn’t keep feeding her half of his own stupid food no matter how much he claimed he was “not starving.” They always needed more supplies. More tools. _Dishes_ , apparently, since Hux had been whining about that, too. Also, not that he would readily admit it since it was Hux’s idea, but they really should try to find some books. They needed information, because they didn’t have endless time and resources to figure everything out through trial and error. So he was going to go out scavenging, with or without Hux. Hux could do whatever the fuck he wanted today, but Kylo was done wasting time.

“Are you leaving again? Is that how you deal with things now?”

Kylo looked up to find Hux lurking near the back of the car, fists clenched and jaw set in anger, but with an edge of fear evident in his eyes. Anger flared up along his spine and pooled at the base of his skull like magma. Did Hux seriously still think he might cut and run just because he was pissed off? That he’d take the car and fucking ditch him now, after everything!? Even if they’d been arguing a lot lately, he really thought Hux trusted him more than that by now. “There’s a lot of shit we need, and it’s not going to just magically appear while we fuck around trying to catch rabbits or whatever. I’m going out, and you can come with me or not. I don’t care what you do.”

Hux went all stiff and quiet for a moment, and Kylo turned his attention back to putting fuel in the car. A few seconds later the was the sound of the passenger door opening, and the car jostled slightly as Hux climbed inside. He supposed that meant Hux was coming along, then. It was always better to have an extra set of eyes and hands for scavenging, even if they were attached to someone he could hardly stand the sight of at the moment.

Fifteen minutes into the drive and neither of them had said a word. The quality of the silence between them was even more grating than it had been in their first few days travelling together. Back then the hostility was tempered with fresh horror, despair, and wariness of each other as they stumbled through the start of this new world together. Now it felt like the both of them were radiating waves of hatred at one another to the point that the air seemed thick with it.

He knew it was entirely his own fault, too.

On top of the frustration of the past couple days, he’d also been feeling like shit. His muscles were still sore, though that had been slowly improving each day, but the real problem was this fucking tension headache that just _would not go away._ He’d heard from several people through the course of his life that he was a real asshole when he didn’t feel well, and he knew it was true. He knew he was being awful, but he couldn’t seem to stop or bring himself to apologize. It didn’t help that Hux was being really shitty in return, but he was well aware that he was the one instigating most of their arguments with abrasive comments. If he could just get rid of this headache he might be able to get a grip and stop being such a total dick, maybe even apologize. It was so hard to do that when all he wanted was to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and stop existing.

The silence was getting on his nerves and if he had to bear it for _one more minute_ he thought he might just drive the car into a fucking tree. Without looking, he reached across and opened the glove compartment, feeling around inside until he found an 8-track and plugged it haphazardly into the stereo. The speakers blared to life and Kylo winced slightly at the volume, but then he almost wanted to laugh when he recognized the music. _The Cars, holy shit_ He was obsessed with this album when he was like _five years old_. It was all he wanted to listen to any time he got to pick the music in the Falcon. Han eventually had to order a replacement copy because the first one wore out. It had been like 15 years since he’d heard it, though. What a nostalgic kick in the face. 

The song faded to an end and Hux spoke up in the lull before the next one started. “Can you turn it down a bit?”

Kylo glanced over to see Hux’s nose wrinkled in that expression of disgust he got, like someone was waving a dead animal in his face. The next song started, loud and up-beat, and the volume was not helping his headache at all, but Hux was annoyed so he’d just have to endure. The lyrics started and Hux opened his mouth to speak again, but Kylo cut him off, singing along so loudly he was practically shouting. “ _I don’t mind you coming here, wasting all my time! ‘Cause when you’re standing oh so near, I kinda’ lose my mind! It’s not the perfume that you wear, it’s not the ribbons in your hair! I don’t mind you coming here-_ ”

In his peripheral vision, Hux turned away and hunched over in his seat as close to the window as he could get. Satisfied that Hux was sufficiently irritated, he backed off and sang at a more moderate volume to save his vocal chords in case he needed to yell later.  
*

*  
By the time they stopped at a hardware store, Hux was ready to stab his own eardrums out. He had no idea why Ren had been such an especially annoying, bratty asshole lately, but he was absolutely sick of this behavior. As soon as the car came to a complete stop he got out and slammed the door shut behind him, then stormed off to the service door at the back of the building before Ren had even turned the engine off. The door was locked, _of course_ , and he hadn’t brought the tools necessary to break it open, so he just leaned against the wall and seethed furiously, waiting for Ren to stroll up with the crowbar.

Ren took his sweet bloody time, and when he finally did approach he had the audacity to look smug. “Oh, gosh, is it locked? Wow, who could have predicted that?”

That was the last fucking straw. It was only through sheer stubborn determination not to let Ren provoke him to the point of violence that he resisted the urge to punch him straight in his oversized nose. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’ve been a complete ass lately and I’m really getting sick of your shit attitude!”

“Right, ‘cause you’ve been an absolute peach yourself. Like when you bit my head off for fucking up the fish that _I_ caught? That was super chill of you,” Ren snapped. He turned his back to Hux while he worked on breaking open the lock, and Hux fought the urge to shove him face-first into the door.

Yes, he’d been an ass, too, but Ren had most definitely started it, and then taken it to an entirely new level of assholery. If things carried on like this, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it. The car ride was the worst by far because he was trapped in close proximity to Ren. At least at home he could get some distance if Ren was being too horrible. He wasn’t even sure what had gone wrong, why Ren had suddenly started acting ten times worse than he ever had in all the time they’d worked together. Things had been going so well, too. They still argued but it wasn’t _that_ bad, and there was amazing sex, which was an unexpected perk that he wouldn’t complain about. But if Ren didn’t get his shit together and stop acting like-

Ren broke the lock and stumbled backward when the door sprang open from the force of zombies pressing against it from the other side. The first one out fell partially on top of Ren, knocking him down, then dug its rotted fingers digging into his clothing, trying to tear him apart. Hux’s mind went suddenly blank with terror in the certainty that Ren was done for as two more corpses stumbled toward him. He couldn’t kill both of them and get to Ren in time to save him. It was over, he was alone, if he even survived this at all.

He had to kill them, anyway. Even if they killed Ren - _especially_ if they killed Ren- he’d make sure it was the last thing they ever did. He picked up the crowbar from where Ren had flung it in his fall and, stealing his resolve, he hit the nearest zombie with all the strength he could muster. It went down, but his aim was just slightly off and it wasn’t dead. He swung again in a low angle to finish it off on the ground, but when he came back up the second one was nearly on him. He didn’t have time to draw back and strike again before it was on him- or it _would_ have been on him, except it fell down on its own.

Not on its own. Ren had it by the ankle, holding it back as it struggled to crawl toward Hux. Meanwhile, the one on top of him gnawed furiously on his forearm. In a panic, he bashed in the skull of the corpse grasping at his feet, then attacked the one on Ren. He had to hit it twice to get it detached from Ren’s arm, and then he hit it once more for good measure before kneeling next to Ren. “Your arm! Your _arm!_ ” The sound of his own heartbeat thundered in his ears as he tried to assess the injury through the gunk-covered sleeve of Ren’s jacket, then scrambled to get his arm out of the sleeve so he could inspect it properly.

Ren’s arm was swollen and discolored, purple crescents of deep bruising already appearing on the skin, but there was no blood. The bite hadn’t broken through the heavy canvas material of his jacket. Hux choked back a sob of relief and silently thanked any celestial entity that might have been watching over them that the bite hadn’t broken through, that Ren would be all right.

When the panic and adrenaline began to fade and his coherence returned he realized he was kneeling on the damp ground, Ren’s hand clasped in his own while he hugged Ren’s injured arm tight against his chest and blubbered like a fool. He didn’t think he’d ever been so terrified in his life as he was in the moments he thought Ren was being eaten alive. Now Ren was staring up at him with wide, astonished eyes, muttering meek words of comfort as his own shaking breath slowly returned to normal. “It’s okay… we’re okay…”

Hux suddenly felt angry again. Furious at Ren for making him be so afraid for him. For making him _care_. “Bastard,” he croaked, voice gone rough from crying, or maybe he’d even been screaming at some point, he couldn’t be sure. “If you _ever_ do that again I’ll murder you myself!” He dropped Ren’s arm and stood, turning his back to him as he tried to regain his composure. A moment later he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off. “Let’s just get what we came here for and get the hell out of here.”

He was slow to approach the doorway again and loudly banged on the frame with the crowbar, hoping the noise would attract any other lingering zombies inside. When nothing else appeared he cautiously went inside, Ren following close behind. They were both quiet as they walked through the store, and Hux didn’t stray far from Ren, fear of any other surprises lurking among the dark aisles and scattered materials making him stay close.

The store had been looted before, but fortunately there were still plenty of nails in all sizes. Hux was surprised to find that the hardware store also had a large pet and animal care section. At least that was an unexpected bonus, so maybe they wouldn’t have to go somewhere else for cat food. They moved through the store quickly, loading up old shopping carts with boxes of nails, tools, and every scrap of cat food he could find in the place before taking it out to the car.

Ren was blissfully silent through the entire process. He nodded or shook his head if Hux asked him a question, but otherwise said nothing. It was just as well, since that way they weren’t arguing, and they weren’t distracted. They’d both nearly died because they were so busy fighting that they hadn’t taken very basic precautions when blindly entering a new place. They’d been sloppy, they fucked up, and they were lucky to have come out of it alive and whole.  
*

*  
The headache wasn’t gone, not completely, but the throbbing of fresh bruises all over his right forearm took a lot of attention away from it. Or maybe the rush of endorphins from the new injury had dulled the ache in his head and neck. Whatever the case, his headache was easy to forget now when every little twinge of pain from his arm was a reminder of how close he’d come to death, and how much he hadn’t wanted to die in that moment. It was also a reminder of the look of pure terror on Hux’s face. Not because of the zombies, but because he thought Kylo had been bitten. It was an image Kylo didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget.

They stopped at a couple more stores and houses, collecting anything that might be useful. In one of the houses, Hux loaded a box with an assortment of cups, plates and bowls, casting wary glances at Kylo all the while as though he expected to be mocked. Kylo wasn’t in the mood to make fun of Hux anymore, so he stayed quiet.

When the sun started to dip toward the treetops, Kylo contemplated heading home. The car was getting full, he was tired, and he didn’t want to get stuck driving home in the dark. Maybe if they were lucky there’d be enough time left to take a shower before the sun set. The cool water would probably feel nice on his bruises.

Beside him, Hux’s hand shot out to point at something beyond the windshield. “There! Pull over!”

Kylo slowed the car and looked in the direction indicated to see a small outdoor plaza with a book store. He pulled to a stop at the curb and Hux was already unfastening his seatbelt to get out when Kylo put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “I’m not sure we have time for that right now. It’ll be dark soon. We need to go home.”

Hux shrugged Kylo’s hand off and glared at him. “It’ll only be a few minutes. I just want to see-”

“If they have survival guides, or books on farming or off-grid living, or any of a thousand other topics that might be helpful?” Hux balked at being interrupted and took a breath to argue, but Kylo cut him off again. “We both know you don’t want to rush through and grab one or two books that _might_ be useful. We need to come back when it’s early enough in the day that we have time to comb through it thoroughly. Just mark it on the map so we can find it again, and we can come back tomorrow or the day after.”

Hux’s glare didn’t waver, but he seemed to deflate slightly in the face of calm logic. “Fine, but can we at least look in the window first, to make sure it hasn’t been completely ransacked? We don’t want to schedule an entire day to drive back here and look through the place if there’s nothing much left to find.”

After a silent moment, Kylo relented. “Okay, but I wanna’ be quick so we can get home. I need a shower.” Hux was already half-way out of the car as soon as the word “okay” had left his mouth.

The windows that covered more than half the front of the store were, of course, dark. It had been over a month since they’d found a building that still had working electricity. Kylo checked the door to ensure that it was safely locked before shading his reflection with his hands and leaning close to look inside, Hux doing the same beside him. There were definitely things out of place. A couple of shelves were turned over, books and loose pages on the floor, but there _were_ quite a few books just from what he could see through the dark window. Kylo knocked sharply on the glass to draw the attention of anything that might be lurking inside, but there was no movement. No sound. Nothing. “Looks good. It’s definitely been looted before, but there’s still a lot left to look through.”

“We could just go inside for a moment. Just to get a better idea of what’s left.”

“If we go inside now we’ll end up stuck here overnight, because I’m not driving us home in the dark.”

Hux threw up his hands with a particularly bratty-sounding sigh and walked back toward the car. “Fine, but we’re coming back _tomorrow_. I don’t want anyone else to have a chance at this place before we do.”

“Fine, whatever you want. Let’s just get home and feed your damned cat.”

Hux perked up slightly at the mention of Millicent and accompanied Kylo back to the car without any further complaints. Once there, he got out the map and marked the location of the book shop with a red pen, then proceeded to plot their route back home. Kylo let Hux direct him to take a back road that ran parallel to the highway for several miles. Now that they weren’t travelling aimlessly and they had a few maps, they preferred to keep off of the main roads as much as possible to keep a low profile and avoid other survivors. Also, they’d found that large sections of the main roads were often blocked with wrecked vehicles, so they frequently had to find alternative routes, anyway. This wasn’t the road they’d taken to get here, but Hux hadn’t gotten them lost yet, so Kylo trusted him to guide them through the odd mazes of side streets and get them home.

Foliage grew thick and wild along most of the roads with little traffic or human intervention to keep it contained. Every now and then a break between the trees revealed wide expanses of overgrown fields, or small bodies of water. It was beautiful in a way that was simultaneously peaceful and destructive, how the plant life slowly encroached, breaking through and reclaiming man-made structures. Kylo just wished he could have been able to observed things like this in a situation that didn’t require the fall of mankind.

The road curved and then went straight for a long way, and in the distance ahead there was something stretched across the road. It took a moment for his brain to sort out what he was seeing, and once he did he slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

Zombies. Hundreds of them. _No-_ he looked to the right where a gap between the trees gave him a glimpse of a field beyond, absolutely flooded with the undead. _-thousands of them_. Each one listlessly following the ones ahead of them like a herd of the world’s stupidest, ugliest sheep. Or they had been compliantly following along until a car pulled up and drew their attention. The ones in the road changed trajectory, heading straight for the car and leading all the others behind them. “Shit. Shit, shit, fuck, shit!”

Beside him, Hux had gone pale and frozen with terror. Knowing they couldn’t possibly push through so many, Kylo slammed the car into reverse, turned around, and sped off back the way they’d come. _How the fuck could they get home??_ “What do we do? Is there a way to get around them?”

Coming back to himself now that he wasn’t face-to-face with thousands of hungry zombies, Hux frantically looked through the road atlas on his lap. “I-... I don’t think so. I don’t know- There’s _so many_ , god, there’s no way around!”

The beat of his pulse in his throat was so heavy Kylo thought it might choke him, but he managed to swallow past it and keep breathing so he could think. “We need to wait them out, then. Hide, and wait for them to pass.”

“That’ll take hours! Or _days!_ Fuck!”

“If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

His eyes focused on the road, but he could hear Hux take a few heavy breaths beside him before speaking again. “Go back to the plaza. We’ll hide in one of the stores until they pass.”

It was only about a mile down the road to get back to where they started, but it was enough to get out of direct sight of the pursuing herd of corpses. _Or horde? Shit._ Massive-fucking-pile _of zombies, what the fuck did grammar matter!?_ Kylo pulled around behind the book shop and got out, gathering things they might need if they were stuck there for too long. Hopefully, since they wouldn’t have seen them stop and go inside, the zombies would just wander past. Of course, that was assuming they didn’t track by smell at all, which Kylo honestly wasn’t sure. This could be a disaster. They might get stuck in here until they starved if the zombies somehow decided to stop here instead of passing through.

Bundling food, water, flashlights, and a first aid kit into a blanket, Kylo slung it over his shoulder and headed for the service door. Hux followed behind, carrying a few things as well. Rushed as they were, they were still careful to knock and listen for any sound inside, and stand clear of the door when Kylo broke it open. Once inside, they both hurried to brace the door shut again before slumping against the wall, both catching their breath as the real danger of their situation sank in. 

Kylo opened up his bundled blanket and took out the flashlights, offering one to Hux. They would need to turn the lights off and stay clear of the windows once the zombies arrived so as not to draw their attention, but they had a little time to look around and try to make things comfortable for their wait. “How long do you think it’ll take before they get here?”

Hux accepted the flashlight and shook his head. “Maybe half an hour? Forty-five minutes? Average human walking speed is about three miles an hour, but they’re a bit slower than average.”

“Okay. That gives us a little time, at least,” Kylo said. He turned on his flashlight and started by walking the perimeter. Hux followed, lagging behind as he kept stopping to pick up books.

There were signs that someone might have been living inside the bookstore at some point. Empty cans and water bottles, what appeared to be a sleeping pallet in the back storage room, even a small stockpile of food on a set of shelves that had been cleared of books. Everything looked like it hadn’t been touched in weeks, though, so Kylo assumed whoever used to live here had either died or fled. He guessed the former, since no one was likely to leave food behind by choice.

The storage room was windowless and dark, so after their walk-through Hux opted to settle in behind the checkout counter at the front of the store. It was close enough to the windows to take advantage of any natural light, while still not being visible from the outside. Kylo would have preferred to be closer to the back of the store, further from the windows, but he knew they probably wouldn’t be any safer there. At least they could conserve the batteries in their flashlights if they stayed closer to the outside light.

Hux spread a blanket out on the floor behind the counter, doubled over for a little extra padding, and sat cross-legged by the stack of books he’d collected. After a moment, Kylo sat next to him and they both started leafing through the books, marking pages with particularly helpful or interesting information. It would have been a relaxing activity, almost fun compared to a lot of other shit they’d had to do, if it weren’t for the nagging anxiety about the massive number of zombies coming their way.

It only got worse once the zombies were close enough that they could hear them. Zombies weren’t typically very loud, but hundreds of them shuffling along, making their hideous, gurgling groans were loud enough together to be heard by the time they reached the edge of town. The din of their approach gradually built, growing louder the closer they came. Kylo risked a quick look out the window just as they started flooding into the plaza’s parking lot. It was a terrifying sight to watch the sheer numbers of them slowly swallow up seemingly every bit of empty space in sight, but from what little he saw they _did_ seem to be moving through. That was something, at least.

The sun was starting to set, and Hux sat stiffly beside him, squinting at the pages of a book on cat care in the waning light, clearly trying to ignore the monsters outside. “Are you worried about Millicent?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just asking. You probably don’t need to worry about her, though. She probably survived alone for weeks before you found her. And I’m sure there are mice and shit in the shed for her to catch. And bugs. Cats eat bugs sometimes.”

Hux suddenly slammed the book down on the floor beside him and turned to glower at Kylo. “ _Stop_ teasing me! It’s not funny! None of this is funny!”

“I’m _not!_ ” Kylo stared into Hux’s scowling face without flinching until Hux looked away again.

Their eyes adjusted as the light dimmed, the warm yellow of sunlight slowly changing to the dim blue of the moon and stars, but before long it was too dark to try to read any longer. With nothing else to do, Hux lay down on the blanket and curled up on his side to sleep, though Kylo doubted that either of them would be able to properly fall asleep that night. Even so, he stretched out next to Hux, anyway, if only because sitting up all night was bound to give him all sorts of muscle cramps. After only a moment or two, he couldn’t help but notice that Hux was shivering, or maybe he was trembling. Whether it was fear or chill or something else making Hux shake, Kylo couldn’t guess, and he would never ask.

Choosing to pretend it was only the temperature bothing Hux, Kylo shrugged out of his jacket and turned onto his side, curling close to Hux’s back and draping the jacket over both of them. Hux went tense against him, as if he were trying to stop his shaking by force of will alone, but Kylo just tucked his arm around Hux’s middle and pulled him close. Hux didn’t relax, but he did rest his hand on Kylo’s forearm, tips of his cool fingers finding and tracing the edges of the overly-warm, swollen bruises there. Kylo took a deep breath and let it out slowly, psyching himself up for the words he was about to say. The words Hux deserved. Then he buried his face against the back of Hux’s neck to muffle his voice and breathed in the scent of dirty hair, which wasn’t pleasant but was somewhat comforting because it was familiar now. It smelled like long road trips and cold nights huddled together. It smelled like safety. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole.”

Hux didn’t say anything in response, but he slid his hand from Kylo’s forearm to the back of his hand, threading his slender fingers in between Kylo’s broader ones and clasping tight. Apology accepted, Kylo supposed.  
*

*  
Hux didn’t remember falling asleep. Instead, it seemed more like he’d done one very slow, drowsy blink. When he closed his eyes it was dark, but when he opened them there was a ray of bright sun across the stack of books in front of him, and it was startlingly quiet. He heard nothing but the sound of Ren’s soft, steady breathing behind him. He turned slowly, trying not to disturb Ren, but Ren was already awake and blinking at him with soft, tired eyes. “How long have you been awake?”

Ren shrugged slightly and reached up to rub at his eye. “Not sure I actually slept. I think I’ve just been dozing a little bit since the sun came up.”

A twinge of worry squirmed in his stomach at the thought that Ren hadn’t slept, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. Hopefully they’d be able to go home today with no trouble, and then they’d both be able to get a proper night’s sleep. “It’s quiet. Should we dare look outside?”

“Be my guest.”

The blanket had not done much to pad the hard floor, and sleeping on it left Hux’s bones aching. His joints popped as he sat up and tried to work the stiffness out of his limbs with a few careful stretches, then he crawled toward the glass pane door and peeked out through the bottom, hoping nothing outside would notice him. The sun was only just beginning to poke up above the top of the building across the street, so he guessed it must be about mid-morning. The sky was clear, and the parking lot contained only a few scattered zombies shuffling around aimlessly after one another. There were a few on the ground, as well, flopping uselessly and trying to drag their broken bodies across the pavement after having been trampled by their brethren. “It looks okay. There are a few stragglers, but most of them seem to have passed us by.”

Ren hummed in acknowledgement and came to stand over him, looking out the top section of the door. “Looks like we get to go home today.”

“Thankfully. But while we here, we should finish scouring this place for information before we leave.” He sat back on his heels and looked up at Ren, who had the corner of his mouth quirked up in that expression that meant he was about to say something he thought was clever, but Hux would probably just find it annoying. “What?”

“If you keep crawling around with your ass in the air like that, I might start to think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Hux rolled his eyes and snatched his flashlight off the floor before standing and wandering toward the nearest shelf of books. “I think that job has already been done, hasn’t it?”

Ren came stand behind him, so close that Hux could feel Ren’s body heat radiating through layers of clothing. “You don’t know that. I’m a complicated man. Maybe I need to be seduced over and over again.”

Hux fought the traitorous urge to lean back into Ren’s warmth, picking up a random book instead and pretending to examine it. “You seem to be overestimating the amount of effort I’m willing to put into garnering your sexual interest.”

A warm puff Ren’s laughter brushed across the back of Hux’s neck, making him shudder. Before he could do something embarrassing in response, like turning around and kissing him, Ren walked off into the rows of shelves to conduct his own search.

It seemed the charm of being around so many books didn’t wear off even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. Hux had loved libraries and bookstores ever since he was a child. He’d spent countless hours of his life in libraries, wandering the stacks and enjoying the quiet, peaceful atmosphere. Bookstores weren’t quite as nice, because even though the atmosphere was similar, his lack of money and the pressure to buy something always made him feel a bit guilty for taking up space that could have been occupied by paying customers. This was perfect, though. All of these books may as well already be his. He could take as many of them as he wanted, and he never had to bring them back. If they couldn’t fit them all in the car he’d just have to insist they come back later to get more. but for now he focused only on books that could be helpful for their survival. Fiction and other books for entertainment could be picked up another time.

After a while Hux noticed Ren standing a couple aisles away, and when he stepped out around the shelves to see what he was doing he saw that Ren was slouching oddly over a table display. “What’s that?”

Ren’s head snapped up and he looked over his shoulder like a kid caught playing with something he’d been told not to touch. “It’s nothing. Just-... nothing.” He dropped whatever he’d pick up back onto the table, then wandered off toward a shelf full of cookbooks.

Hux waited until Ren was just out of view before curiosity got the better of him. He went over to the display and was overcome with an unexpected wave of sadness when he saw it was full of sketchbooks, drawing pencils, and those little palettes of dried water paints teaches handed out in grade school art classes. Why this should be making _him_ sad, he wasn’t sure. He’d done a fair bit drawing for his architecture classes, but that was just a skill set to share his design ideas, it wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed.

Ren enjoyed it, though. He’d never seen a single piece of Ren’s artwork, but he knew from hearing him talk how important it was to him to create things. And now Ren had an opportunity to pick up some basic supplies he could use to express himself creatively, the way he longed to, and he’d turned away from- _Oh god-fucking-damn it!!_ He was fucking _sad_ because of fucking _Ren! Again!!_ Blood boiling with frustration, he snatched up a canvas tote bag from a fallen display rack and started shoving sketchbooks and art supplies into it. Ren was being _stupid_ to walk away from all these things, and Hux wasn’t going to let him do it.

“Woah, holy shit.”

The muffled sound of Ren’s voice carried from somewhere on the other side of the store and shoved all of Hux’s frustration away to simmer at the back of his mind. Ren must have found something especially interesting. “What? Where are you?”

“In the storage room. There’s a really bad-ass-looking bow and arrows stuffed under this sleeping bag.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

Hux gathered up all the bags of books he’d collected to drop them by the door on his way toward the store room, but Ren met him at the door holding a compound hunting bow out into the light for inspection. He’d only used a compound bow once or twice in archery club, since they usually only used light recurve bows for target-shooting, but every now and then the instructor would bring in something different for them to try. This looked like a much more fancy and expensive compound bow than the one he’d been allowed to use, though. Ren took hold of the string and pulled it back, and a jolt of panic hit him that Ren might destroy the delicate instrument by firing it without an arrow. “Don’t-!”

“I’m not gonna’ dry-fire it, calm the fuck down. I’m just testing the weight. It’s a heavy draw.” Ren eased the string back down again before letting it go.

Hux suppressed a sigh of relief, but he still itched to take it out of Ren’s hands, as if Ren might break it just by holding it. “Let me see it.”

“Do you even know how to use a bow?” Ren asked, looking at Hux doubtfully but holding out the bow for Hux to take anyway.

Hux eagerly took it by the grip and held it up to inspect the pulley system before casting a side-eyed glance at Ren, one eyebrow dubiously raised. “Do _you?_ ”

“My uncle Chewie had one he let me practice with sometimes.”

Hux would have scoffed if Ren’s lack of archery expertise hadn’t been the least ridiculous part of that sentence. “You had an _uncle_... named _’Chewy?’_ ”

Ren shrugged. “It was a nickname.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Hux muttered. He was going to do his best not to _imagine_ what could earn someone that nickname, either.

“Good, because I’m sure I don’t have the answer.”

“And here I thought _Kylo_ was a ridiculous name.”

“Oh, so you _do_ know my first name. Ever going to tell me yours? ‘Cause I have no fucking clue. I’ve just been operating under the assumption that you only have one name, like Cher.”

This time Hux _did_ scoff at Ren’s rambling as he reached out to snag an arrow from the quiver Ren had dangling haphazardly from his shoulder. He fit the nock to the bowstring and gave it a very careful pull to check the weight. Ren was right, it was a heavy draw, but Hux was pretty sure if he could pull the string back far enough to engage the pulley system, he’d be able to handle it. “Of course I know your first name, it was on your employment paperwork. And your nametag.”

Ren watched Hux testing the bow and took out another arrow to inspect it himself, smoothing his fingers over the fletching at the end. “Fine. You didn’t answer my question about _your_ name, though.”

“No.” Hux didn’t necessarily dislike his first name, but he’d endured so many poorly-conceived jokes about it when he was young that he’d stopped using it in contexts that didn’t require his full name. He might feel inclined to tell Ren his first name if he really wanted to know, but having just made a snide remark about Ren’s own name, he wasn’t interested in giving him fuel to respond in kind.

“Okay, Cher. What about my other question?”

Hux paused, brow furrowed and nose scrunched slightly in confusion. He’d been so occupied looking over the bow that he honestly didn’t remember any other question. “What?”

Ren’s lips curved into a smug grin. “Do you even know how to use a bow?”

Hux cocked his head to the side and gave Ren a flat stare. Damn Ren for constantly doubting him. Damn him and his stupid, smug, beautiful mouth. Rather than replying with words, Hux unlocked the door and shoved it open, then stomped outside to demonstrate. 

Nervous energy bundled itself into a knot in his throat as three zombies took notice of him and started staggering in his direction, but he swallowed it down. He had something to prove, and he refused to make a fool of himself. The sound of the door and a few footsteps told him Ren was right behind him, watching, so he took a slow breath and drew back the string. His arms shook from the effort at first and for a moment he thought he might not be able to draw the bow, but then the pulleys engaged, taking half the weight and allowing him to pull it to full draw with ease. The rest was all muscle-memory shaping his body into the proper form. _Elbow bent out slightly, not locked, back straight, feet shoulder-width apart, thumb locked into the notch behind jaw, aim, breath, release-_

In the blink of an eye, the arrow struck the nearest zombie directly between the eyes and it slumped to the ground mid-step. An elated smile broke over Hux’s face and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy his victory before schooling his features back to neutrality and turning to check Ren’s reaction. There was a soreness in his arm that made him think he may have strained a muscle, but the gaping, bewildered look on Ren’s face was entirely worth it.

“That was so fucking hot, holy shit.”

“Oh...” Hux blinked a few times in surprise. Of all the possible reactions he’d expected, that wasn’t one of them.

“Come on, let’s load up our shit and go home. You’re making me horny with this bad-ass elven archer vibe you’re giving off and I’d rather not have sex in an abandoned bookstore.” Ren went back inside the store and, after glancing back at the slowly approaching zombies, Hux followed, still slightly baffled. He couldn’t remember a time in life when anyone had used the words “bad-ass” to describe him in any context. “Can I call you Legolas when I fuck you?”

Hux’s eyes narrowed in distaste. “No, you sure as hell may _not_.”

“Hawkeye?”

“ _No_.”

“What about Tauriel? She even had red hair.”

“That character didn’t even exist in the books, and those movies were a travesty. If you keep this up the only thing you’ll be fucking is your own hand.”

Kylo sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “You know, you have a cute ass, but your personality is a black hole, sucking the fun out of the entire universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this chapter seems sloppy. I was rushing to get it posted and didn't spend as much time editing as I probably should have. T_T I've been all out of pre-written chapters since chapter 7, so my glacial writing pace is sure slowing things down a lot. BUT, I have the ending solidly planned out now, and the entire rest of the story outlined, so I can keep on track and keep things going. I'm sorry it's been such a long wait between chapters. My sincere thanks to everyone who's still reading this ridiculousness.
> 
> Bonus tidbit:  
> Kylo learned everything he knows about cats from pet sitting for his uncle Luke for extra money whenever Luke went travelling. The cat was a real shit and did not make Kylo’s job easy. He was already around 10 years old when Kylo was born, and lived to be 25. Despite being very feisty and spry well into his old age, he still needed daily medication and special care for the second half of his life. He also enjoyed knocking things over, making messes, and crawling into really difficult hiding places any time Kylo was left to take care of him.
> 
> The cat was a small Japanese bobtail who was the runt of his litter, and the last one to be adopted because he was so small he wasn’t expected to survive. However, he thrived despite the odds and was an absolute hellion as a kitten. He’d already been adopted and returned to the shelter three times by the time Luke took him home to stay. The people at the shelter had already named him Daimyō Oda Nobunaga. Luke opted not to change it, but called him Yoda for short.
> 
>  
> 
> ...I have tons of randomly detailed background info that's never gonna' make it into the actual fic. >_>;;;


	10. Disintegrate Like Ash

The changing of the seasons was more subtle where they were now in the south than it had been up north where they'd started. Despite knowledge to the contrary, Kylo kept expecting the temperatures to plummet to the point where he woke up to find all their water frozen and a thick blanket of snow over everything. He'd always lived in places where winter was pretty harsh, so this felt a little bit like being stuck in a perpetual autumn that might never end. The temperatures hovered right at the edge where it was just cold enough to be uncomfortable, but just warm enough that a heavy coat to block out the chill would leave him sweating after a few minutes.

Eventually Kylo lost track of the days and regretted that he hadn't thought to start keeping a calendar at some point when he still had a clue what month it was. He guessed it was late February, or maybe early March, only because the daylight hours were getting noticeably longer now. The temperature was also starting to get warmer again to where he could comfortably shed his jacket during peak hours of daylight even if he wasn't working up a sweat, though mornings and evenings were still colder than he liked. 

Not knowing the date bothered him more than he thought it would. He'd never know for sure if it was a holiday, or even his own birthday, ever again. Not that they had a whole lot to celebrate apart from the fact that they were both still alive somehow. Still, he thought it would at least be nice to mark the passing of time and maybe do something on the anniversary of the day this started. The day he'd made the decision not to let Hux die. The day he'd truly lost his family. It would be nice to do something to honor all they'd lost, and celebrate how far they'd come building new lives for themselves in this harsh, new world. Maybe if he took up studying astronomy he could learn to calculate the date by the stars, but that seemed like a lot of time and effort to dedicate just so he could mark a date to throw a sad, two-person party. Such indulgences still felt wasteful and inappropriate.

Wasteful and inappropriate like the sketchbook Hux had given him weeks ago after they'd found the bookstore. He hadn't known how to respond when Hux hesitantly presented it to him, telling him there was more, too. Pencils, pens, paints, and more books with different types of paper. Kylo had itched to load the entire display of art supplies into the car when he'd found them, but a nagging sense of guilt knotted in his stomach at what a temptation it would be. He shouldn't be spending valuable daylight hours drawing when there were so many other things that needed to be done. But then he thought maybe he could take just one sketchbook and one set of pencils. He could draw at night, squinting in the dark when he couldn't sleep from the horrors parading behind his eyelids, and hide it away during the day so he wouldn't think about it. Hux wouldn't even need to know he was wasting time on something so frivolous.

The thought of hiding a sketchbook under his mattress the same way he used to hide porn from his parents is what finally put him off and he decided it would be best not to take any of it, not even a sketchbook. It would be a needless distraction when he needed to focus on staying alive. But then Hux picked up a stack of supplies, anyway, and offered them like a mouthwatering bite of forbidden fruit when Kylo had been starving for months. It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture, but even so some part of Kylo was angry at having this dangled in his face when he'd already made the painful decision to leave it behind, telling himself _he couldn't have it._ So he'd taken the sketchbook without comment and done his best to keep the conflicting emotions from showing in his expression. When Hux continued to stare at him expectantly, he'd issued a subdued "thank you," and tucked the sketchbook away next to his clean laundry. If Hux was disappointed in his reaction he didn't show it, and neither of them had mentioned it since.

In the following weeks they'd done a lot of work and completed several projects to make their lives easier, in large part due to the books they'd recovered. They'd made a lot of progress on the fence, working on it together every other day and spending off-days working on other things. They'd converted a rain barrel into a washtub and strung nylon cords to hang clothes to dry, so they could finally wash their dirty laundry. They'd built a solar food dehydrator so they could preserve excess meat and things harvested from their gardens so they wouldn't have to watch them spoil if they couldn't eat them fast enough. They’d had plans to build a spring house next to the creek that ran east of their home so they could have some form of refrigeration, but it didn't seem like such a pressing necessity anymore. Maybe in the summer, when the weather turned hot, it might be more of a priority, but for now they could get by without it.

Their gardening skills had greatly improved after they read through a couple of books on the subject. The obvious thing they'd been doing wrong was failing to fertilize their plants, but Kylo had since started cultivating a compost heap and brewing fertilizer out of grass and dead leaves per instructions in one of the books. Then he harassed Hux into helping him feed the plants on occasion.

Meanwhile, Hux had taken to hunting with the bow every third or fifth day. Kylo went with him the first few times out, but it was so difficult for him to sit still and be quiet for long periods that he was more of a hindrance than a help. So now Hux went out hunting on his own, or with Millicent as his only companion, though he didn't stray much more than a mile from the fence in any direction. They had a call-and-response whistle so they could check in with each other, and a signal when Hux had shot something he couldn't carry back himself, and another if Hux was in trouble and needed help. While Hux hunted, Kylo stayed behind to keep the grounds, tend the gardens, do the washing, fill the shower, build a cooking fire, or any of the other various things that might need to be done that day. Hux helped with those things when he wasn't hunting, but Kylo was glad to have work to keep himself occupied when he was home alone. And, surprisingly, he sort of enjoyed some of it. The work was relaxing in a strange way because it was just mentally engaging enough that his mind couldn't wander too much, and if he worked hard he might tire himself out enough to actually sleep through the night.

Today he was working on the laundry. It took more physical effort than he would have expected to agitate, scrub, and wring out a barrel full of sopping fabric. Hux was total shit at it, in part because he didn't have as much weight and physical strength to put into the effort, but also because he just fucking hated it and spent more time complaining than scrubbing. That was fine with Kylo, because he didn't mind doing it. It seemed like good exercise, and he could take out a lot of his frustrations on the dirty clothes. So far he'd only ruined one t-shirt by scrubbing a particularly nasty stain so hard he shredded a hole through it.

It was only mid-afternoon but the sky was growing prematurely dark, and Kylo looked up to see angry-looking clouds rolling in to block out the sun. He'd have to string clothes lines inside the shed so there would be a place to hang the laundry to dry, safe from the weather. Hopefully Hux would be back soon. It had been hours since Hux left to hunt, and Kylo was already starting to feel uneasy about how long he'd been gone before the the signs of an oncoming storm appeared. He paused in his work and whistled their signal, then waited quietly for a reply. Hux's sharp, responding whistle issued from the east, not very far off. He must be on his way back, then. Good thing, too, because there was an ominous rumble of thunder and Kylo was anxious to get inside.

He finished wringing out the rest of the clothing as quickly as he could and loaded it into a plastic tote box to carry it inside. Hopefully Hux wasn't bringing back too many dead things for him to deal with. He was starting to get pretty good at dressing and skinning Hux's kills, but it was a messy business and he still wasn't fond of it. He didn't imagine he ever would be. It didn't turn his stomach anymore like it had the first couple times, though, so that was something. It was just another dirty job he had to do at this point.

Just as he was finishing up tying nylon strings between the shelves and the posts that supported the loft the door opened and Hux walked in, Millicent prancing along in front of him. He was carrying a squirrel and a rabbit, holding them from strings tied around their back legs and looking pleased. "How'd it go?"

"Very well. Even managed to get back before the rain started." None too soon, Kylo thought as the roar of heavy rain on the roof swept in suddenly. "There have been a lot more rabbits out lately, but most of them are just tiny little things right now. Must be their breeding season." Hux handed over his kills to Kylo, who tried not to trip over Millicent when she trilled and rubbed against his ankle in greeting.

All of Kylo's nervousness from the past hour or so seemed to evaporate in the face of Hux's unexpectedly positive mood, but that made some stubborn part of him go tense. Some deep-seated, contrary voice in his subconscious that still balked at the thought of being happy simply because Hux was happy. He tried to shove it aside and focus on what he'd need to do to prepare dinner. "Great, well. Why don't you hang up the laundry while I deal with these, then?"

Hux wrinkled his nose at the tote of wet laundry, but did as he was asked without objection while Kylo sharpened a knife. Hux had actually puked just watching Kylo's first attempt to gut an animal, and that had almost caused _Kylo_ to puke, so they'd come to an unspoken agreement that Hux would kill things, but Kylo would dress them and prepare them to be cooked. They took turns cooking, but Kylo was pretty sure his food was better. "Millicent caught her own dinner today," Hux said while he worked, sounding intensely proud. "One of the little rabbits we saw. It was pretty gruesome to watch her eat it, though."

Kylo hummed in acknowledgement, making quick work of the squirrel and hanging it over a bucket to drain. "Guess that means we don't need to share with her tonight." Millicent had gained a good bit of weight over the months since they'd found her, to the point where she was actually becoming a bit squishy around the middle.

"Maybe not," Hux said, but Kylo was sure he would catch him pinching bites off of his own plate to feed her. Hux spoiled her too much, but Kylo wasn't about to tell him to stop.  
*

*  
The weather was terrible. It rained almost every day for what felt like weeks, though Hux supposed it probably wasn't that long. On the days it didn't rain it was still chilly and overcast, and Hux was getting sick of it. The dampness seemed to chill him to the bone even worse than the coldest days of winter. The only time he felt properly warm was curled up in bed with Ren wrapped around him, performing his human-radiator duties. Just when he'd thought the weather would start warming up with the spring, the rain had to come along and ruin everything.

Well, not _everything._ The rain was good news for their water reservoirs and all the outdoor plants, and it gave them plenty of time to read some more of the hundreds of books they'd collected. It just meant they were stuck indoors most of the day, unless they wanted to be cold and unpleasantly wet. They still had to make sure the plants in the greenhouses were watered, and they put out all the little solar lamps and batteries they'd collected on the dashboard of the car so they wouldn't get wet, to collect as much light as possible. Other than that they just stayed inside while it rained, eating the shelf-stable rations they'd collected or preserved with the dehydrator. At first it had been a relief, an excuse to relax. They could still go scavenging in the rain, and they did a bit, but they had to take a break on the outdoor work. That led to hours at a time, sitting around in the quiet reading, or occasionally fucking out of sheer boredom.

Ren read voraciously, sitting down with a small stack of books and reading through them all within a day, which was something Hux hadn't expected. He figured Ren would be jogging in place or doing pushups, or that he would get impatient and go charging out into the rain after half an hour. He hadn't thought Ren was even capable of sitting still for more than five minutes at a time, but apparently he could sit for hours on end as long as his mind was occupied. He didn't touch his sketchbook, though. Hux tried very hard not to feel disappointed by that.

Even so, they both started to grow restless after several days. When there was finally a break in the weather, it felt like a blessing to be able to go out to work on the fence. This was the second day in a row that it hadn't rained, and they'd finished building the reinforcements for the fence. _Finally_ , after months of work, their home was secure and they were both feeling accomplished at completing such a massive project on their own. To celebrate, they were sitting outside around a fire, taking advantage of the surprisingly balmy weather, passing a bottle of brandy and a bag of stale marshmallows back and forth between them. Hux was feeling warm and fuzzy-headed from the brandy, and slightly nauseated from eating so many marshmallows, but he felt good, anyway. Relaxed. He might even dare to say he was happy as he sat there in the fading sunlight, dangling a long blade of grass for Millicent to chase.

Ren sat next to him, alternating between staring into the fire and watching him play with the cat, a soft, calm expression on his face. Maybe "contentment" would be a good word to describe it, except Hux didn't know what was going on in Ren's head. He felt like he never did, but sometimes he got lucky and guessed correctly. He hoped he was guessing correctly this time. If he felt this good, he hoped Ren felt good, too.

God, maybe he was drunk. Hoping for Ren's happiness didn't seem like the sort of nonsense his mind could conjure while sober, but the thought was there now and he couldn't banish it. Then he started contemplating other things, wandering down pathways of fantasy and conjecture he'd never thought, or dared, to explore. What if the _zombies_ had never happened? What if he and Ren had been able to overcome the animosity between them just long enough to carry on _one_ civil conversation? He'd always found Ren physically attractive, and he could no longer deny that he'd come to care for him after all they'd gone through together, but could he have started to care for him if circumstances had been different? If all this passed and human society began to recover and rebuild, would he and Ren still want to stay with each other? Hux felt a muted twinge if anxiety at the thought of settling into a fragile, new society and trying to find a partner there who _wasn't_ Ren. 

But maybe Ren didn't share that sentiment. Maybe Ren was only with him because there were no other options at this point, and he'd jump at the first opportunity to find someone else. Hux stared down at Millicent and reached to give her chin a scratch. At least _she_ wouldn't leave him. Millicent loved him. He was certain of it.

Before he could think better of it, a question formed on his tongue and went tumbling out of his mouth. "Do you think this will end some day? All this-" he paused, waving his hand in vague indication, " _this?_ The _apocalypse_ nonsense?"

Ren watched him, the corner of his mouth quirking up in response to Hux's vague gesturing. "I dunno. Maybe, but who knows how long it'll take? As long as people are scared and desperate for supplies, things are gonna be dangerous. But eventually scavengable supplies will get too scarce and people will have to find other ways to get by. Once most of the people who are left are sustaining themselves with farming and stuff, to the point where they can get by without having to scavenge and steal from other people, then maybe they'll be less hostile. But it could take years, or maybe decades, before things really start to settle. We'll just have to see."

Hux hummed and chewed on his lower lip, pondering Ren's surprisingly optimistic response. It was hopeful, but not impossible. He could just imagine different communities finding each other, making tentative treaties and trade agreements instead of trying to subjugate and plunder one another. It didn't seem very likely, though. From his experience, most human beings didn't tend to treat one another very nicely unless someone, some political or religious leader, was forcing them to. Not that he wouldn't love to be proven wrong on that point. "Do you think we'll live long enough to see it? Whatever society emerges from this mess?"

Ren shrugged. "I'm surprised I've made it this long, honestly. Figured I would've fucked up and gotten myself turned into a walking corpse by now."

Hux's mouth pulled downward into a disgusted frown at the thought of becoming a zombie. He hoped no trace of human consciousness remained in those shuffling, horrid things, and he hoped never to find out through first-hand experience. "That's so awful to think about. I just hope if I ever turn into one you'll do me the courtesy of killing me. Or- re-killing me? Decommissioning my corpse or whatever."

"But what if I want to keep you around as a pet? You could guard my house. Maybe everyone will keep pet zombies in the new post-apocalyptic society," Ren said, ridiculously plush lips twisted into that teasing smirk.

Hux was having none of that, thank you. "Don't be disgusting. I don't want my remains wandering around someone's yard, rotting on a leash. Just shoot me."

"Nah."

"What? _No!?_ "

Ren was looking away from him, staring into the fire again with the ghost of a smirk still on his lips and a distant, strangely sad look in his eye. "No, I mean, I'll 'decommission your corpse or whatever,' but I wouldn't shoot you unless I had at least two bullets."

Hux rolled his eyes, brain working a bit harder than usual to work out the riddle of Ren's words. Ren's aim wasn't so bad that he was likely to miss the first time. Did Ren really need to shoot him twice? Was that some sort of spiteful statement, that he would need to make doubly sure Hux was really dead? He opened his mouth to tell Ren he was being stupid, but then the realization struck that maybe the second bullet in this hypothetical scenario wouldn't be meant for him.

He stared at Ren's profile in the orange glow of the fire, his swimming thoughts suddenly sharp and clear. Ren couldn't mean that, could he? _How dare he say- how fucking dare he even imply-!?_ There was a stinging in his eyes, suddenly he felt furious and like he wanted to cry, but also like Ren had just given him something so exceptional and precious that he could scarcely fathom it. Never in his life had he been simultaneously so touched and angry. He wanted to punch Ren, and kiss him, all at the same time. His nose tingled, his eyes felt hot and wet, and when Ren looked at him again Hux threw himself forward, nearly knocking Ren off his seat.

Ren seemed surprised to be kissed, but he leaned into it anyway. Just like he always did. Hux kissed him hard and pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. "You'd better fucking _not_ you ass. I'll haunt you, you insufferable shit!" he snarled against Ren's mouth in between watery kisses, hands fisted in the fabric of Rens shirt under his jacket.

Ren laughed softly and slipped his arms around Hux to steady them both and keep them from tumbling over to the damp ground. "I guess you better make sure you don't get eaten by zombies, then."

Hux sniffled and scoffed at Ren's solution. Of course Ren would lay that responsibility on him. _Fucking Ren. Stupid, beautiful Ren._ "I hate you."

Infuriatingly, Ren let out another quiet laugh and drew away. He picked up the bottle of brandy, now much closer to empty than Hux remembered, and took another drink before passing it back to Hux. "I know."  
*

*  
There was weight on his chest and the familiar pressure of something warm and soft against his neck, leaving a trail of cool dampness behind as it traveled down to the hollow just above his collarbone. Kylo shifted in his sleep, tilting his head and leaning into that sensation with a pleased sigh. He thought he might have been dreaming, but whatever fragmented narrative his subconscious was writing had gone dark, the edges of it disintegrating like ash when he grasped for them, leaving him trapped in the burdensome weight of his physical body and all its senses once more. Then there was warm breath on his ear, teeth biting down on the curve of it just hard enough to tingle on the edge of pain and draw forth a breathy moan. His eyes finally fluttered open when he realized he'd made that sound himself, and he drowsily came to terms with being awake. The light coming in through the widow was soft and grey, rain pattered on the roof overhead making him drowsier still, his body was warm, his nose was cold, a stubbled chin scratched against his jaw as his earlobe was sucked into a warm, soft mouth, and he was _hard as fuck_.

The mouth pulled away from his ear and Hux's face came into view, hovering above him with a sly grin and hair hanging in his eyes. "Oh, good. You're awake."

Kylo reflexively reached up to tuck Hux's hair behind his ears for him, then stretched a bit under Hux's weight across his chest, muscles stiff and weak from sleep. "Kinda' hard to sleep through you sucking on my ear."

"Mm. That was the idea," Hux said, voice smooth and impish as he shifted from laying partially across Kylo to sitting up astride his waist, ass mere centimeters away from Kylo's dick. He was naked apart from the oversized grey flannel he kept stealing on chilly mornings, now worn unbuttoned with the excess fabric pooling at his waist and draping over the tops of his thighs. One side hung down off of his slender, sparsely freckled shoulder and _god_ Kylo was 100% fully awake now. "You slept late, and it's time to wake up."

Kylo's hands were drawn to Hux's thighs as if by magnets, gliding up over the pale expanse of them until his fingertips slid under the edges of the shirt. "Were you waiting for me to wake up? Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

Hux reached back to take Kylo's dick in his already slick grip and Kylo sighed in relief, eyes fluttering briefly closed again when Hux gave him a few slow strokes. "Not too long, but long enough."

"Long enough for wh- oh _fuck._ "

Hux lifted up on his knees and was already lowering himself onto Kylo's cock, taking him to the root in one slow press. He let out a breath once he was fully seated and waited for a few agonizing moments before he began to move again, rising and sinking in a sluggish pace.

Kylo groaned and closed his eyes, gripping Hux's thighs tightly and feeling the lean muscles there flex and relax with Hux's movements. His brain supplied helpful little images of Hux laying back on the bed, slowly working himself open with those slim, clever fingers while Kylo slept unawares right next to him. What he must have looked like, maybe biting his lip to keep quiet- _fuck!_ Kylo hastily shoved those thoughts away and opened his eyes again, in danger of coming already. Not that the sight in front of him was any less appealing. 

The greyish light leached color saturation from the world, leaving everything awash in drab pastels. Hux's hair, several strands loose and hanging in his face again, was soft peach against his ghostly pale complexion. The shirt had slid down further, hanging around his elbows and falling open in the front to expose his cock, hard, flushed a deep petal pink and glistening at the tip. He leaned forward, bracing one hand against Kylo's chest for support as he moved, the other hand drifting up to his own chest to tease and pinch the delicate bud of his nipple. God, he was _so fucking beautiful._

There was a slight hitch in Hux's movements and when a blotchy pink blush spread from his face all the way down to his chest, Kylo realized he might have said that last thought out loud. He felt like maybe he should be worried about that, but he wasn't. It was fucking _true_ , and so what if Hux knew that's what he thought? Hux was especially gorgeous in rare, unguarded moments like this, when he wasn't trying to prove anything or live up to whatever self image he tried to maintain. Moments like this when he let all pretense fall away, wrapped up in the pursuit of pleasure.

After each rise, Kylo flexed his hips upward to meet Hux on every fall. He could feel the tremor of fatigue starting in Hux's thighs as he strove to keep his languid pace and Kylo couldn't take his eyes away. Mesmerized, he wanted to absorb every movement, expression, and sound Hux made, even as his own body screamed impatiently for release. Hux was getting close; he could tell by the hitch in his breath, the soft almost-moans on every exhale. When he reached for his cock, Kylo was already taking him in-hand, circling his thumb across the head to gather the moisture there and stroking him in slow, lazy pumps to match the rhythm he'd set. Within moments, Hux was stuttering out a throaty cry and spilling across Kylo's abdomen.

Hux slowed to a stop, panting quietly in the residual haze of euphoria while Kylo struggled to keep still beneath him and allow him to recover. A draft of cool air made goosebumps rise all down his arms and he shivered slightly. "Ahh- We really should get better insulation in here. Maybe a heater for the cold days-"

Kylo let out an inelegant snort of laughter. "Oh my god, you just can't quit complaining. C'mere..." When Hux looked like he might protest, Kylo took his arm and gave it a gentle tug. "If you're cold, come here."

Hux seemed reluctant to lay down on him at first, possibly due to the cooling dribble of come on his stomach, but after Kylo gave his arm another, more insistent tug he relented. Kylo suppressed a groan when the shift of position caused him to slip out, but patiently waited for Hux to settle against him. Then he thought of a better arrangement and rolled Hux onto his back, laying over him with most of his weight on his elbows and Hux bracketed between them, surrounded with warmth on all sides. It would have been pretty comfortable if he weren't still impossibly hard. "Do you mind if I-?"

"Nnh. Go on..." Hux wrapped his legs around Kylo, urging him close until he slipped inside again and they both sighed.

Kylo leaned down for a kiss, but Hux turned his head to evade him,- _Morning breath. Right._ \- so he kissed his jaw and his neck instead as he began to move his hips in the same unhurried pace Hux had chosen. There was nowhere they had to be. No pressing matters to attend to. They could stay in bed, lazily entangled for hours if they wanted to. So Kylo took his time, Hux arching up to meet him, and let his pleasure build. His orgasm hit in a slow crest like a breaking wave, pulling a ragged breath from his throat as his hips stuttered to a halt.

All the energy bled out of him in the aftermath, leaving him feeling like a very relaxed and contented human puddle, and he slumped heavily on top of Hux, face pressed into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hux squirmed just a bit until their respective bony and soft parts aligned more comfortably, but thankfully he didn't seem to mind being pinned down under Kylo's weight for the time being. Kylo fought the drowsy lure of unconsciousness if only because he knew he had a tendency to drool when he slept on his stomach, and he knew Hux probably wouldn't enjoy that. "That was nice. You should wake me up like that more often."

"Mm. I might if I could manage to be the first one awake more often," Hux said. They lay together for a few moments, quiet and comfortable, and Hux absently stroked Kylo's hair back away from his face.

Kylo's eyelids drooped dangerously and he tried to blink away the threat of sleep. "Why'd you wake up so early? Bad dreams?" Nightmares often had him awake far earlier than he'd like. Maybe Hux had them, too.

Hux's fingers snagged in a tangle in Kylo's hair, and he carefully worked the tangle loose so he could comb his fingers the rest of the way through. "Dream, yes, but not exactly bad. It featured Keanu Reeves."

The sensation of having his hair gently finger-combed was so unexpectedly pleasant that Kylo let his eyes drift closed and enjoyed it, but kept talking to stay awake. "'Bill and Ted' Keanu or 'Matrix' Keanu?"

"Neither, actually, though I guess 'Matrix' is closer. Did you see a movie called 'Constantine?'"

"Oh shit. Yeah, I read the Hellblazer comics it was based on, and teenaged-me had a _lot_ of angry opinions about that movie." Kylo chuckled softly at the memory. In retrospect, it seemed like such a trivial thing to be so angry about. "Tilda Swinton as the angel Gabriel was brilliant, though. That part where Gabriel drops out of the sky and knocks Constantine down and is like standing on his throat? I went from scoffing about misrepresentation of the source material to full-on awkward boner in the movie theater. That was the first time in my life I thought it might be hot to have someone step on me."

Hux's hand went still in his hair. "You like to be stepped on?"

"It seemed sexy in theory, but the first time I tried it, it wasn't as much fun as I expected. Turns out I don't really like some guy's sweaty, unwashed foot in my face."

Hux burst out in a fit of laughter so suddenly that Kylo lifted his head to look at him, but he wasn't prepared for the soft bubble of warmth in his chest at the look of genuine amusement on Hux's face. He was pretty sure he'd never actually heard Hux laugh before. There was something enthralling about it, and before he knew it he was laughing along, laying his head down again to listen to Hux's laugh through his chest. It was a revitalizing sound that he hoped to hear again.

Their laughter died away, leaving Kylo with a pleasant fuzziness around his brain as Hux resumed finger-combing his hair. He was starting to feel gritty with drying bodily fluids and needed a bath. The bedsheets probably needed to be changed, too, but at the moment it was difficult to care about that. "What do you want for breakfast?"

Hux hummed thoughtfully, working on a particularly stubborn tangle in Kylo's hair. "An omelette would be amazing. With mushrooms and onions."

"Fresh out of eggs, sorry. Could I interest you in a packet of instant cereal and a cup of coffee?"

"It'll have to do, I suppose."

A couple more minutes passed with neither of them making a move to get up. Then a truly pathetic meowing sound started up from somewhere below the loft. "Your daughter needs you."

"Excuse me? _Our_ daughter."

"Uh, no. She doesn't even look like me. She's completely orange, and that's all you."

Hux tried to sit up, but found he could hardly budge Kylo at all. "Fine, well, let me up to go feed her before-" the scratching sound of clawed feet climbing their way up the wooden ladder interrupted him and he slumped back on the bed with a heavy sigh "-she climbs up here. Never mind."

"It was nice of her to wait so late into the morning before she started panicking about her empty food bowl," Kylo mumbled into Hux's chest before rolling off onto his back with a sigh just in time for Millicent to come prancing up onto the bed between them.

She trilled for attention and Hux didn't hesitate to scratch her chin and mutter little endearments to her. Kylo rolled his eyes, but joined in to stroke her back nonetheless. After appeasing their feline overlord with pets for a minute or two, Hux got up to gather clothes for the day, trying not to trip over Millicent as he did. Kylo lounged on his side to watch, admiring Hux's long legs and a few glimpses of his ass when he bent down to pick things up. Hux noticed Kylo watching and went pink across his cheeks and all the way down his neck. "Ren, do you really think I'm..." Kylo made a questioning sound when Hux trailed off, but Hux shook his head. "Never mind, it's nothing."

It took Kylo a few moments of replaying the morning in his head before he could guess what Hux might have been asking about, but he remembered his thought earlier, accidentally voiced aloud. He might be guessing wrong, but if he was right it felt worth the risk to give an answer. "Yeah... I do."

Hux's blush deepened and he said nothing as he gathered up Millicent and headed off toward the ladder, bare feet almost silent on the wooden floor of the loft.

 _So fucking beautiful._  
*

*  
For the first time in almost a week, not only was it not raining, but the sky was actually clear. The sun was out, making everything humid and warm, and fungi were popping up all over the forest floor. Hux wished he knew more about mushrooms so he could harvest some of them, but as much as he liked mushrooms, he wasn't willing to risk poisoning himself due to ignorance. Maybe he could learn by watching animals to see which ones they deemed edible, but that would take a whole lot of sitting patiently and quietly. That was certainly something he could do, but the problem with observing an animal for too long if he also planned to kill it was that they were often cute, and the longer he watched them the harder it was to kill them. It was easier if he could just line up his shot and let the arrow fly without thinking too much.

Despite the favorable weather, he wasn't having much luck with hunting today. There were a few stray zombies dragging themselves around the trees, making too much noise in the underbrush and scaring everything away. It wasn't unusual for him to encounter a zombie or two while he was out hunting, but so far it had never been more than he could handle. He had a distant fear that one day another horde like the one that trapped them in the bookstore overnight might come through, and he might get stuck sitting still and quiet in a tree for hours until they passed. He consoled himself with the thought that surely he would hear them coming a ways off, and he could outrun them back to the plant nursery. As long as they didn't see him go inside, they should just pass by like they had at the bookstore. Their fields outside the fence would get trampled, but at least he, Ren, and Millicent would be safe.

While there weren't very many zombies in the forest this particular day, it was still more than Hux liked. He'd killed two of them as they staggered by were he perched safely out of reach in a tree, but the damage was already done. It might take hours for the animals scared off to come wandering back. He needed to move elsewhere, or admit defeat and go home for the day. It was only about mid-day, but he'd already traveled a little farther than usual. Maybe he could get something on the walk back if he was quiet and careful, since he had time to walk slowly. He looked over at Millicent, who was stretched out on a wide branch looking very relaxed, her tail hanging down and twitching in the light breeze. She was pretty good about alerting him if there was anything in the area simply because she perked up at any suspicious noise, but her body language suggested that they were the only living things around apart from insects. Sometimes when he was especially bored, he would carry on silent, one-sided conversations with her in his head, reasoning that it wasn't crazy as long as he didn't speak aloud. _What do you think, girl? Should we call it a day?_

Millicent turned her head and began to purr when she saw Hux was looking at her, and Hux couldn't suppress a fond smile. He reached over to give her chin a little scratch, preparing to climb down and head home, when her posture suddenly changed. Her head snapped up, muscles tense, and her eyes fixed on something to Hux's left. Hux turned and drew back his bow, an arrow already fitted to the string in readiness, but he was disappointed to see it was only another zombie that had caught Millicent's attention.

It was moving oddly, though. More slowly than he would expect. Then it stopped next to the corpse of one of the zombies Hux had shot previously and stooped down oddly. _Was it mistaking the corpse for a man? Was it going to eat it?_ A jolt of horror struck Hux so fiercely he nearly gasped aloud.

It wasn't a zombie. It was a man. A living one.

The man was bending over the corpse, examining Hux's arrow sticking out of its head. The arrow was a dead giveaway. He would know there were other humans nearby, or that there had been at some point. _Could he tell how recently that zombie was killed? He might come looking for their camp-_ The man stood up from the corpse and looked around until he locked eyes directly on Hux's position. Hux panicked and released his bowstring. 

His aim was true. The arrow struck the man directly in the eye and he dropped to the ground.

A wave of dizzyness came over Hux, nearly causing him to fall out of the tree, but he braced himself against a branch. His thoughts spun wildly. He knew nothing about that man. He wasn't actively threatening him or Ren, but he'd killed him anyway. _Was_ murder _going to be his first response to meeting any new person from now on? Was he just a murderer now?_ He took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down and think rationally. That man _was_ a threat, even if he wasn't holding him at gunpoint. They couldn't afford to have anyone discover their home. It was too dangerous, and that man was far too close. 

He felt like he should signal Ren that he needed help, but did he dare risk it? The dead man may not have been alone out here, and if there were more people he couldn't risk whistling to summon Ren in case others heard and recognized the sound as a signal. Also, if there were other people in the area he could be endangering Ren by calling for help.

He needed to get back home. Immediately.

Gathering his things, he climbed down the tree as quietly as he could, anxiously coaxing Millicent to follow. Once they were both on the ground, he headed straight back home as quickly and cautiously as he could.

When he went in through the gate, he found Ren working in one of the greenhouses. Ren straightened from his work, brushing soil from his hands and looking pleased to see Hux until he took in his appearance and his grin faded. "What's wrong?"

Hux opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain to Ren that he'd just murdered someone in the forest? That he'd seen another survivor, and immediately shot him with an arrow? He could feel himself shaking and he thought he might be sick, but Ren was in front of him now, gripping his shoulders with this warm, broad hands. His throat was tight and tears prickled at his eyes, but he fought them back. He refused to cry right now, but his voice was still unsteady when he spoke. "There was a man in the woods."

Ren's look of concern changed to an expression of shock and trepidation that Hux had never seen before. "Shit. Are you okay? Did he see you?"

"He's dead. He saw me, and I shot him," Hux said. He replayed the moment in his head, when the man caught sight of him, and he cursed his brightly colored hair. That was sure to be what gave him away.

"Fuck. Was he alone?"

Hux shook his head. "I don't know. It seems unlikely, but I didn't want to wait around and find out. I didn't see anyone else."

Ren let go of Hux's shoulders and turned away, pacing back and forth a few times to dispel his nervous energy. "Where were you? How far away?"

"Maybe a little over a mile to the north? I don't know, but it was too close." Guilt and anxiety sat like lead in his stomach. He felt like he was in trouble. Like he was back in school and he'd been called to the principal's office, and now he was awaiting a punishment which might impact his entire future. Ren might be angry. He might leave again. He might leave _permanently_.

Ren cursed softly, continuing to pace for a few seconds more before he stopped and forced himself to take a series of deep breaths. "Okay... okay... Did you leave the arrow? If someone finds him they'll know-"

"I did, but it wouldn't matter either way. I shot him in the eye and, arrow or not, that isn't going to look like an accident or a zombie attack."

"Shit." Ren dragged his dirty fingers through his hair to push it out of his face, lips bitten into a thin line while he stared off to the side and tried to come up with a solution. There was no solution to this, though. It felt like anything they did would be like putting an adhesive bandage over a severed artery. He was certain someone would find their camp. It was only a matter of time. "We need to get rid of the body. If he just disappears, any people he has will probably assume he got eaten by zombies. Then they'd have no proof of anything. No reason to go seeking revenge or whatever."

Hux nodded, slightly relieved, but it felt like a temporary stay of execution. Like Ren was waiting until they'd dealt with this crisis before delivering his judgement regarding Hux's actions. He'd rather just get it over with. Let Ren scream at him, or hit him, or throw him out of the camp for being a murderer or bringing this danger upon them, whatever, just do it now so he could know where he stood. He would wait, though. Deal with the problem at hand, and then see what fate awaited him.

They shut Millicent away in the equipment shed so she couldn't follow, then took a wheelbarrow out into the forest and Hux lead Ren back to where he'd been hunting. The two zombies were laying just where he'd left them and so was the man, the bright fletching of Hux's arrow sticking up like a flag to draw attention to his crime. He collected the arrows from all three bodies, then helped Ren wrestle the dead man into the wheelbarrow.

The walk back to the plant nursery felt like it stretched out forever, but the sight of the fence coming into view was no relief. They dumped the body into the burning pit outside the fence, where they burned the corpses of zombies killed around the perimeter of their camp so they wouldn't continue rotting and clouding the air with the stink of death. Hux tried not to gag from the smell of burning flesh as they stood by, waiting for the evidence of this terrible thing to be reduced to ash. He risked a glance at Ren's face, but his expression was unreadable, so he went back to watching the fire and anxiously wringing his hands, dread twisting his insides into knots.

He saw Ren shift in his peripheral vision, and then there was a warm arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. He followed the movement until he was nestled against Ren's chest, shaking and burying his face against Ren's neck. "You were trying to protect us. It's okay. You're okay." Ren said softly, kissing his hair.

Maybe that was true. No, it _was_ true. He just wanted to protect them. This small, safe world they'd constructed for themselves. But he wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So THAT happened.
> 
> Thank you to everyone still reading this. ♥♥♥ And special thank-yous to for everyone who's commented and encouraged me, and to [sterne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sterne/pseuds/sterne) for helping me with proofing this chapter!!
> 
> Things are gonna' start getting a li'l bit rough after this, so buckle up.
> 
> Bonus: [This is the scene referenced from the movie Constantine.](https://youtu.be/Oi1r8B5INfU) That scene is basically Hard Kylux ok


	11. Safe Behind These Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are bad, folks.

Hux wasn't sure how long it had been since he and Ren had set foot outside of the fence. It seemed like weeks, but he guessed their food supplies would be running lower if it had really been that long. He knew they couldn't hide inside the fence indefinitely; they would run out of easy sources of protein or soap or toothpaste or something basic like that eventually. All of those were supplies they would need to leave the safe confines of the fence to replenish. Hux wasn't going to suggest leaving for anything, though. Instead, he waited for Ren to make that decision. If Ren decided to go out for any reason, Hux knew he would go with him no matter how much he'd rather stay behind. It was too dangerous outside, and he couldn't bear the thought of waiting and worrying if Ren would come back alive.

He hadn't slept soundly for a single night since that day. Terrible thoughts and images flooded his mind any time he closed his eyes. Sometimes he dreamed of the dead man; sometimes they were just people with a few of his features: his eyes, his hair, the shape of his face, staring at him with accusation. Sometimes he dreamed of the other two men, the ones he killed to save Ren that day in the beginning of winter. In his dreams, no one attacked him or threatened him. None of them even spoke to him. They just watched him, expressions glazed in silent recrimination. Sometimes he ignored them, or tried his best to, though he couldn't seem to escape them no matter how far he ran. Other times he shouted at them, challenging their judgement of him when he'd only done what he had to, or screaming to be left alone. Other times he wept apologies, begging forgiveness from the silent victims who only continued to stare. In the worst scenarios, he killed them. Over and over again.

Even worse than those dreams of endless, silent judgement from the faces of those he'd killed were dreams of people with no faces at all—at least they didn't start out with faces. He would find himself surrounded by these indistinct human shapes and filled with panic, the crowd around him emanating hostility in nearly tangible waves. They approached him one by one and he lashed out, his bare hands like blades, cutting them down before they could do the same to him. Then once they hit the ground, their features would become clear: the dead man from the woods; he two men he'd shot in December; Jen, the new girl at work; his English professor from freshman year; Ms. Sloan; his mother; Ren. _Ren._ When he looked again, they were all Ren, broken and bloody on the ground, dark eyes seeing nothing.

The sight of Ren's terrible blank eyes always ripped him from sleep, heart racing and gasping for breath. Then he would look beside him and find the real Ren lying there awake, blinking slowly at him in the dark. He wasn't sure if he was tossing in his sleep and waking Ren up or if Ren was coincidentally waking on his own, but he couldn't stand the guilt of disturbing Ren's already fitful sleep on top of everything else, so he let himself believe the latter. He let himself curl into Ren's chest and take comfort in his living presence until he could sleep again. He never spoke a word of what he dreamed, and Ren never asked.

The lack of restful sleep left him exhausted and irritable during the day. He kept snapping at Ren over petty things. Ren snapped back at him, but it seemed neither of them felt motivated to properly argue, so it didn't escalate much beyond that. Hux wondered if this state of sleep-deprived, functional malaise was how Ren felt the entire time they'd known each other. If it was, then he supposed he couldn't blame him for being so fucking unpleasant.

For the past two days, they'd been working on clearing the tall grass growing everywhere inside the fence that hadn't been worn down to bare dirt. There was a _lot_ of it. With all the rain it had grown fast and thick to almost waist-height, and it made him uneasy. Ren cut it down with surprising efficiency with the actual fucking scythe he'd found in one of the various storage areas while Hux followed and collected the fallen grass to be composted. He was more than happy to let Ren handle the wielding of that dangerous piece of equipment, even though he worried Ren might fumble the awkward thing and cut his foot off.

Beyond the actual concern of Ren accidentally harming himself with the scythe, it was just disconcerting in general to see him with it. Hux tried not to think about ridiculous symbolism of death. It was a piece of farming equipment, not a bloody _omen_. It didn't mean anything at all, but still, a nagging voice in the back of his mind reasoned that if Death came for him looking like Ren did, sweating in the sun while he worked, then...well, he may not be so disinclined to let Death take him.

Once Ren finished clearing grass along the perimeter of the fence, he leaned the scythe against the fence and stood, stretching his arms and his back. "I think that's it. All the main areas, anyway," he said. He took off his shirt and mopped his face with it, groaning into the sweat-damp material. "I'm gonna go make us lunch while you deal with the rest of the grass."

Hux nodded distractedly, keeping his eyes on Ren's muscled back until he turned a corner out of sight, then wiping his own brow with a sigh and carrying on with his work. It was a small mercy that Ren hadn't taken his shirt off earlier, because it would have been much harder to focus on his dull, arduous task. By the time he finished and went to find Ren he was sweaty and worn out as well, though he didn't feel quite as inclined to take his shirt off. He was already worried that he might be sunburned after being out in the open sun, but it was hard to avoid without spending his days entirely indoors or out in the woods in the shade of the trees.

When he found Ren he was sitting in the shade outside the shed, still shirtless and with his hair now wet and dripping down his shoulders and back. "Why are you wet?"

Ren looked up from the plates he was preparing and snapped his head to the side to get his hair out of his face, flinging drops of water all over Hux in the process. "I dunked my head in a rain barrel to cool off. You should try it. It's pretty effective." He finished cutting a few more strips of dried rabbit meat onto the plates, then offered one to Hux.

"I'm sure it is, but I think I'll pass," Hux said, nose scrunching up in distaste. He took his plate and sat beside Ren, leaving some space between them so Ren wouldn't drip on him. Snap peas, radishes, and dried rabbit. Not exactly fine dining, but they were all foods they'd produced themselves, and Hux couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of that.

Out of habit he started breaking off bits of rabbit to feed to Millicent, and his heart went cold in his chest. Millicent hadn't turned up for a meal in a day and a half. She'd started to get restless stuck inside the fence, and Hux suspected she'd found a way to sneak out into the forest to hunt without him. She'd missed a couple meals now and then, but she always turned up again before too long. She'd never been gone this long, though. Not only had she not been around to share his food, but he hadn't seen her _at all_ in almost two days now.

Ren caught sight of the cat-sized morsels before Hux could eat them himself to hide the evidence of his mistake, and he paused for a moment before speaking up. "She could have just gotten lost. She might still find her way back here after a while. Or she might have wandered far enough to find another camp somewhere and taken up residence with them. Or—"

"She's _dead_ , Ren," Hux said flatly, bristling with fury. "I don't want to hear your damned _fairy tales_ about everything being okay, because it is fucking _not okay._ She wouldn't just _run away_ when she had everything she could possibly want here. She's dead, and she's never coming back. I'm not going to delude myself that she's alive and happy somewhere because I'm not a fucking _toddler_. There's no 'cat heaven,' she's just fucking gone!" He furiously blinked back tears and bit his tongue, struggling to keep control. Crying was pointless. It wasn't going to help Millicent. It would only make him feel terrible and give him a headache.

Ren's voice was surprisingly even, but there was still an edge of anger to it. "I'm not trying to 'delude' you, I'm just saying _you don't know._ Just because you don't know where she is doesn't automatically mean she's dead."

"Maybe it doesn't, but I know the odds are strongly against her being alive and well. I don't want your false hope!" Hux bit back a sob, but there was no use fighting the tears now. Maybe they wouldn't help Millicent, but he deserved to feel miserable for failing to keep her safe. He sniffled and blinked his vision clear, wiping away the tears as soon as they fell. "I don't know why you bother making up stories to pretend she's fine. You didn't even like her!"

Ren was quiet after that, and Hux hoped he might have made him angry enough to shut up about the subject. But after a moment Ren spoke up again, voice surprisingly gentle. "It doesn't matter if I liked her or not. I know _you_ loved her. And I'm sorry to see you lose something you care so much about."

Hux's breath hitched and he clenched his jaw to keep himself quiet, but he sobbed silently over his plate. After a moment he heard Kylo get up and the swishing and splashing sounds of water told him Kylo was messing around in one of the rain barrels. Hux was partly glad that Kylo wasn't just sitting there watching him cry like a toddler, but somehow it made him feel so much more alone that Kylo wouldn't even offer _his presence_ for what tiny amount of comfort it might give. He didn't have much time to dwell on that, because the next moment something cold and _wet_ was draped across the back of his neck and over his shoulders, startling him so badly that he flung half of the vegetables off of his plate. "Shit! What the _hell!?_ "

"Sorry," Ren muttered as he returned to his seat next to Hux, and to his credit he _did_ sound apologetic, but Hux still had a towel rolled up and flopped over his shoulders like a fat, sopping wet tentacle dripping all over him and soaking his clothes. An apology didn't undo that. "You need to cool off, and I thought it would help. Here." Ren held out a bottle of water, which was also dripping wet. "I sank a few bottles to the bottom of that rain barrel in the shade over there, so they'd be kinda cold."

Hux grudgingly accepted the water and nodded his thanks before taking a drink. Now that he wasn't so shocked by the sudden coldness of it, the towel did seem to be helping to stave off the physical symptoms of the heat, even if it didn't improve his mood. He'd have to change his clothes now, or spend the rest of the day uncomfortably damp. Ren helped him gather his fallen radishes off of the ground and splashed some of his own drinking water over them to rinse them before returning them to Hux's plate. Hux was strangely touched by the gesture.

"You might try putting the towel over your eyes. My mom used to do that when I was a kid. She'd have me lay down after I'd been crying and put a wet cloth over my eyes. It helps with the swelling around your eyes and the whole crying headache thing, too."

Hux glanced at Ren out of the corner of his eye, then he dubiously lifted one soggy end of the rolled-up towel and pressed it across his eyes with a sigh. It was difficult to tell if it was actually helping or not since he was so busy being perturbed over the wetness, but the entire situation was at least distracting enough that he didn't feel like crying so much anymore.

After a moment one of Ren's massive hands, also cool and damp from handling wet towels and water bottles, came to rest on the back of Hux's neck. "I think you're a little bit sunburned. You're looking kinda pink here on the back of your neck, and on your nose and cheeks."

"That's not a surprise. I burn easily." Hux found himself relaxing slightly under the weight of Ren's hand, which seemed far heavier than it should have been due to his weariness.

"You do look like the type that would. We need to get you some sunscreen. And an aloe plant, if we can find one."

Hux's shoulders went stiff at the thought of leaving their compound. It wasn't safe _at all_. They couldn't just go out scavenging like they used to. Maybe they could make some kind of sunscreen out of plants on the premises, or he could wear a hat, or just _not go out in the sun_ , or—

Ren gave the back of Hux's neck a gentle squeeze, which slightly aggravated the pink skin there. "We have to go out sometime, Hux. We can't just stay in here forever."

What Ren said was true; Hux knew that. They'd made a lot of progress, but they weren't quite in a position where they could sustain themselves indefinitely with what they had. But the thought of leaving the safety of their fence was terrifying and he wasn't sure he could do it.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'm not going to force you to do it. I can go on my own."

"No!" Hux's head snapped up suddenly, fear gripping him. The only thing that seemed more terrifying than going out was letting Ren go alone. When he couldn't find the words to express that he looked at Ren, eyes pleading, and he was sure he looked an absolute mess, all wet and sunburned and his eyes red from crying, but Ren didn't comment on it. "Ren, you can't..."

"Okay! I won't go alone!" Ren gave a frustrated sigh, but there didn't seem to be any real anger behind it. Then he picked up his own plate again and pensively crunched on a radish for a moment or two before he spoke up again. "We _have to_ start going out again sometime, but we don't necessarily have to go far right now. We can start easy, and work back up to the longer trips. Maybe we can try that department store with the garden center a few miles west."

Hux's instincts were at war. The farther away they travelled, the less likely they were to draw attention to their home if they encountered anyone else. However, the farther they travelled, the more likely it seemed that they might run into other survivors. Ultimately, the draw to stay close to home won out. Maybe it was risky, especially since he'd encountered that man in the woods—and that meant there could be others nearby—but the closer to home they stayed, the faster they could retreat into the safety of their fence. "Maybe. If we don't go too far," he said, quiet and subdued. 

He nervously chewed on his lower lip until Ren's persistent crunching reminded him that he should really eat his lunch. Snap peas were nice, but he'd never been fond of radishes. They always tasted bitter and burned his tongue, but these ones were surprisingly refreshing and slightly sweet. Maybe it had been so long since he'd eaten a radish that he'd forgotten what they tasted like. Or maybe it was a psychological thing, and these ones just tasted better to him because he personally helped to tend and harvest them. Whatever the reason, he enjoyed his lunch more than he expected. When he finished, he set his plate aside and shrugged the towel off of his shoulders, draping it over the end of the rickety bench they sat on. He was plenty cooled off now, and the wind was just making his damp clothes feel clammy and uncomfortable. "When do you want to go?"

Ren shrugged, collected their empty plates, and went to rinse them off. "It'll be light for several more hours. We could take a quick trip out today. If you're up for it."

There was no sense in delaying any longer. His lunch felt heavy in his stomach, anxiety twisting his insides into knots. He was most certainly _not_ up for it, but they could either go now and get it over with, or he could spend all his time dreading the inevitable. "All right. Let me change into something dry first."  
*

*  
Hux was obviously a nervous wreck. Kylo helplessly watched him out of the corner of his eye as he drove, torn between wanting Hux to just get over his fucking problems and wishing there were something he could do to help. The only thing he _could_ do was to be sensitive to Hux's anxieties and try not to make anything worse. So he did that. He kept loud, sudden noises to a minimum. He put on quiet music in the car in hopes that it might provide a gentle distraction. He talked softly about where they were going and the key items they should be looking for. Meanwhile Hux sat beside him, clinging to the shoulder strap of his seatbelt like it was a lifeline and taking deep, measured breaths. He gave short nods of agreement or understanding to Kylo's statements, and slowly his fists uncurled from the seatbelt and came to rest on his lap.

Kylo couldn't blame Hux for being nervous. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous himself, but if there was one lesson he'd learned in life, it was that he couldn't let fear stop him from doing what he needed to do. Granted, he had done some monumentally stupid things in life that could have been avoided if he'd given in to fear, but he'd done some good things, too. He hoped the decision to go out today would prove to be one of the latter.

There were a couple of convenience stores in between camp and the department store they were heading to, and Ren saw no reason not to check them. If they found sunscreen and aloe there, they could just call it a day and head home. When he pulled up behind the first one, he couldn't help but think of the very first time they'd done this. How terrified Hux had been at the sight of that zombie locked behind the counter. They'd both come so far. "Do you wanna come in, or wait in the car?"

"I'm coming in," Hux snapped before Kylo could even finish his sentence, already unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out. Kylo sighed, arming himself with his favorite steel pipe before getting out and following Hux to the door, but he felt a spark of fondness at Hux's determination.

Inside the store, Hux stayed so close that Kylo could reach out and touch him at any time as they searched through the picked-over aisles. Kylo tried to joke about it, saying that if Hux intended to be up his ass he could at least bend him over the counter, but Hux only scowled in response, in no mood for Kylo's teasing. Ultimately, they found very little of use in the store. There were a few pieces of cheap electronics that might be useful just for their components and a multi-tool pocket knife, but little else other than trash and empty packaging.

The second stop they made proved a little more successful in terms of finding what they were looking for. They found a small, travel-sized tube of sunblock and a few basic first-aid supplies like bandages and alcohol swabs. There was also an entire unopened case of cheeseburger flavored potato chips, which Kylo insisted they should take despite Hux declaring them "repugnant." Gross or not, they were still shelf-stable calories, which they couldn't afford to ignore at this point. They found no aloe or anything to treat sunburns with, though, so they moved on to their destination.

By the time they reached the department store, they'd both begun to feel more at ease. Hux even allowed Kylo to wander off out of sight without panicking. Maybe things could get back to the way they were before.

Kylo left Hux to pick through what remained of the health and personal care department while he went in search of storage rooms and back stock that may not have been discovered by other survivors yet. Walking along the perimeter of the store, he found what he was looking for: a door that would be easily overlooked by customers browsing the shelves around it. There was a keypad lock on the handle, and Kylo's shoulders drooped in disappointment when he saw that the lock had already been broken. There could be a few things left, though, so it was still worth checking. Cautiously, he pushed the door open to look inside, and he started at what he found.

There was someone inside: a balding, middle-aged man in a stained shirt. They locked eyes and in an instant the man lunged for a gun lying on a shelf nearby, but Kylo's reflexes were faster and he brought the metal pipe he carried down hard on the man's hand, smashing it against the shelf. The man screamed in pain and Kylo raised the pipe, ready to strike again. His pulse throbbed heavy in his throat and he thought he could taste the metallic tang of his own panic on the back of his tongue. "Shut up! I don't want to hurt you!"

"Too late for that, you fucking prick!" the man yelled, cradling his crushed hand to his chest.

Kylo opened his mouth, floundering for a response, for any solution to this problem, when Hux was suddenly beside him. "Ren, what—"

It all happened in the blink of an eye. The man drew a knife, seemingly out of nowhere, and lunged for Hux. Without hesitation, Ren swung the pipe with all the strength he could muster and struck the man in the temple. He fell back against the shelves in an uncontrolled slump and lay still. Blood dripped sluggishly from the wound, and _oh God his eyes were open and lifeless and human necks were not supposed to bend that way._

Kylo's stomach lurched and he turned away, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth. _Do not throw up. Do_ not _throw up, DO NOT—_ Hux was grabbing his arm, tugging him away from the storage room with a look of terror on his face. "Ren! We have to go; there could be more of them!"

Kylo blinked away the stinging blurriness in his eyes and nodded, letting Hux pull him along toward the exit. When he reached the door, he realized his hands were empty. He must have left his pipe inside. For a moment he considered going back for it, but he couldn't. There was no way he could force himself to go back inside, face what he'd done again, and pick up the weapon he'd used to do it. A vague thought occurred to him that maybe this was how Hux felt about his gun after shooting those two men, but this was different, wasn't it? He'd struck that man himself. He felt the force of the impact through the pipe. He'd killed someone with his own hands.

They hadn't even gotten what they came here for. It was all for nothing.

The bright sunlight shining just over the top of the car nearly blinded him when he stepped outside and he had to shield his eyes. Hux already had the passenger's side door open, turned back to make sure Kylo was right behind him before getting in. Kylo saw his eyes go wide at the same time he heard the footsteps running up behind him.

He turned just as the man charging at him swung wildly with a knife. Kylo's reflexes kicked in and he managed to partially deflect the blow, which was probably aimed for his neck or chest, but the blade still sliced across one side of his face and bit into his shoulder. He gasped at the white-hot pain and pressed his hand over his right eye, which had stopped sending any information to his brain other than _blurry-red-stinging-hurt_. He didn't have time to absorb the terrifying concept that _he may have just lost an eye_ before the man slashed at him again. Kylo stepped aside and caught the man's wrist, let the man's momentum carry him off balance. Then with with one sharp movement, while the man stumbled forward, Kylo jerked his wrist back and the knife sunk deep into the man’s own throat.

Just like that, it was over. The man slumped to the ground, made an awful gasping-choking sound around the blood dribbling out of his mouth and down his chin, then lay still. Kylo was shaking with a nauseating mix of adrenaline and horror, one hand still pressed to his eye while he stared down at the blood on his other hand, mind reeling over what had just happened. What he'd done. Behind him, Hux was shouting for him to get in the car, and of course he was right. They needed to leave. _Right now._ He could sort out his mind later, when they weren't in danger, but right now—

Gunshots.

It sounded like someone was shooting from the direction of the department store, but Kylo couldn't see anyone. Fuck, his face hurt, and his eye, and his shoulder, and his side. Why the fuck did his side hurt so much? He looked down to see blood blossoming across the left side of his shirt, dark and red. He was bleeding? He'd been shot?

Hux was suddenly in front of him, looking over his shoulder toward the store with gun drawn as he pushed Kylo toward the car and shouted panicked instructions for him to _get in, just get in the fucking car, Ren, oh God—_ There was nothing he could do but comply. It hurt to move at all, but he bent down and climbed into the open passenger's side door, and as soon as he was inside Hux slammed it closed and ran to the other side and climbed into the driver's seat. Hux was yelling again, and it took entirely too long for Kylo to comprehend that he was demanding Kylo give him the car keys. Kylo shifted and winced, retrieving the keys from his pocket, then Hux snatched them away and started the car.

Hux had never driven the Falcon before. Did Hux even know how to drive? Kylo had the vague impression that Hux had told him he _could_ drive at some point, but it was hard to think about it. Hard to think about anything but the pain and the fact that he might be dying. There were so many times in his life when he'd thought he wanted to die, but at this moment he didn't want it. He wanted to live. He _needed_ to live! Hux needed him, and he had to stay alive for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter the most so far, for a lot of reasons. I'm really sorry for the long wait, and that it's super short, but I struggled a lot writing it. Now that it's out, hopefully I won't struggle as much with the next chapter. I know things are rough right now, but I promise this doesn't have a tragic ending if you'll just hang in there with me. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me for so long. And an extra thanks to [Gefionne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gefionne) for helping me out and proofreading this chapter for me!!! T_T ♥ ♥ ♥


	12. Blood on the Breeze

They couldn't go home; not now, it wasn't safe. It seemed like a certainty that they would be followed by whoever had been shooting at them, and Hux couldn't lead anyone back to their home. There was far too much at risk, and Hux couldn't bear to think of losing all that they'd built. So he drove _away_ from home, turning down wildly overgrown back roads that he had memorized after so many weeks staring at maps of the area. While _he_ wasn't lost, he hoped anyone trying to follow would be completely disoriented and lose track of them.

He tried not to look at Ren. He was afraid to see how heavily he was bleeding, or if he was even still conscious, but he could hear breathing beside him so at least he knew Ren was alive. It was getting dark, though. Turning on the headlights would make them far too visible and he couldn't risk it. He needed to stop while there was still a bit of light, so he could see to treat Ren's injuries before he bled out all over the front seat.

If he remembered correctly there was a place up ahead where he could pull off of the road, so he slowed down and watched for any break in the encroaching foliage. When he saw it he slammed on the breaks and made a sharp turn onto an overgrown gravel road, spurring a hiss of pain from Ren as he was roughly jostled against the door. This used to be a short driveway leading to a small parking area for people to leave their cars while they went hiking or camping or whatever rugged adventurous nonsense people used to do here. Now it was so overgrown Hux nearly missed the turn in, and the little square of gravel that used to be a parking lot was nothing more than a level area where the weeds and grass weren't quite as tall.

Each breath Ren drew beside him was ragged with pain. When he stopped the car he was still afraid to look over and see the full extent of Ren's injuries, but there was no time to waste. Stalling could only put Ren's life in further danger, so Hux flung himself out of the car and scrambled into the cargo area to gather all the medical supplies they had, lined them up neatly across the car's open tailgate, then went to the passenger side to collect Ren.

There was blood nearly everywhere he looked. The right side of Ren's face was entirely obscured with it; his wild and overlong hair was matted with it and stuck to his cheek and neck. Ren's shirt was almost entirely soaked with it and stained so dark it was nearly black closest to his injuries. As he helped Ren out to lay on the clearest patch of ground he could find, Hux tried to reason that it wasn't as bad as it looked. It seemed like a lot spread through the thin fibers of Ren's shirt and across the unabsorbent surface of his skin, but there weren't puddles of it in the seat and floorboard. Ren was cringing and holding pressure on his side, and that surely helped minimize the bleeding, right?

He'd read a couple of first aid books and even taken a class on it once, but in the face of an actual emergency it felt like everything he'd learned was wrung out of his brain like water from a sponge. Ren's silence wasn't helping; he hadn't spoken a word since being attacked. The fact that he _wasn't_ spewing an endless string of profanity was possibly the most worrying thing of all. "Ren," he was mildly surprised at the raspiness of his own voice, but he supposed he had been shouting a lot. He dropped to his knees at Ren's side and tentatively reached out to touch Ren's blood-covered hand where it was clamped over his wounded side. "Fuck. Say something. I need you to talk because I can't fucking _think!_ "

"I'm sorry," Ren blurted out, voice soft and shaking like Hux had never heard it before, "I fucked up. I fucked up and I'm dying. I'm so sorry, Hux." God, why did he sound like he was _pleading?_ Like he was desperate for Hux's forgiveness? If he he wanted Hux to grant him absolution so he could give up and die, then Hux _was not going to fucking grant it!_

"You're not dying, you stupid shit!" Hux snarled, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth a sense clarity settled over him. Ren was _not_ going to die, because his injuries were almost certainly not life-threatening. The cut across his face and shoulder was superficial, and the bullet wound looked like it had passed through cleanly and close to the surface from the glimpse he'd caught of it. It was still dangerous, and there would be a high risk of infection in their highly unsanitary conditions, but the injury itself should be treatable. "Move your hands. Let me see," He pulled at Ren's hands and Ren relented, slowly releasing his injury and letting his shaking hands rest on the ground at his sides.

There was no saving the shirt at this point, and Hux wasn't going to make Ren sit up to take it off, so he started at the knife slash in the shoulder and tore it open to expose Ren's injuries. Cleaning the bullet wound was the priority. It was still sluggishly oozing blood, but bits of fabric or other foreign material could be stuck inside, and if he didn't flush it all out Ren was sure to get an infection. Hux grabbed a gallon jug of water from the back of the car and began rinsing the wound as thoroughly as he could while Ren hissed and twitched a bit at the sting of water running over his injury, but otherwise remained silent. God, this was all completely unsanitary, but there were no other options. Once Hux had used up half the jug of water flushing out the bullet wound, he opened a sterile gauze pad and splashed it liberally with isopropyl alcohol that they'd been lucky enough to find that afternoon. "This is going to hurt. Probably a lot," he warned, and he paused until Ren nodded feebly before pressing the gauze pad against the wound.

Ren gasped and instinctually jerked away from the sharp burn of disinfectant against the raw edges of his torn flesh. Hux pulled away to give him another moment to brace himself, now that he'd had a sample of the pain in store from the alcohol. When he pressed the gauze to Ren's injury a second time Ren scarcely moved or made a sound, though every muscle in his body went tense with the effort of holding still. Hux found himself muttering apologies under his breath in response to every slight sound or twitch Ren made while he cleaned the entry and exit wounds as thoroughly as he could. When he finally pulled away Ren let out a heavy sigh, his chest heaving as though he'd held his breath through the entire process. Hux opened fresh gauze and medical tape and did his best to bandage Ren's side while Ren fought to catch his breath. "Don't do that. I don't want you to pass out."

"Maybe I wanna pass out. At least then I wouldn't be conscious to feel you doing that," Ren said weakly. Hux shook his head. Maybe that would be a more merciful option from Ren’s perspective, but as long as Ren was conscious at least it was easy to tell if he was still alive. 

Now that the most pressing injury was dealt with Hux was starting to feel a little less terrified, but he couldn't allow himself to actually _calm down_ just yet. As soon as he let himself be calm, the events of the past hour would begin replaying through his mind and a new set of worries would start to form. He needed to finish taking care of Ren's injuries and get him settled back into the car for the night before allowing himself to have a fucking meltdown.

Hux turned his attention to Ren's face and he tried not to cringe. The flesh all around the injury had started to swell and most of it was obscured with a mess of blood and tangled hair. The way the cut passed over Ren's eye was worrying, but the eye seemed to be stuck closed at the moment due to swelling and sticky, half-dried blood, so Hux couldn't tell how badly it might have been damaged. God, he hoped Ren wouldn't lose his eye.

Ren's breathing had evened out, but it was still rough with pain and he was shaking just a bit. Hux had the sudden urge to try to comfort him, but he had no clue where to begin. He felt as helpless as he had when looking after his mother during the end stages of her illness. He had no comfort to offer either her or Ren; he couldn't stop their pain or undo what had caused it. At least in Ren's case he could do more than just sit and watch him suffer. Ren had a chance of recovery. "Hold still. I need to clean this up."

It was obvious Ren was doing his best to follow instructions and lay as still as he could, but he couldn't seem to stop trembling. Hux only hoped Ren wasn't getting hypothermia or some such thing. The temperature was falling, but it wasn't _that_ cold out, was it? But then Ren was injured and shirtless and wet, lying on the damp ground, so maybe he was especially susceptible. Best to finish this up quickly and get Ren back in the car. Hux opened another fresh packet of gauze and soaked it with water, then cradled Ren's uninjured cheek in his right hand while he gently cleaned the mess away from his face.

"My eye..."

Ren's voice was so quiet and frightened that it almost startled Hux. He hated seeing Ren this way, hated seeing him so scared and in pain, and he wished Ren would just _fucking stop it already._ "I'll clean it and flush it out so you can open it," he said, trying to sound calm and neutral as he focused his efforts on gently swabbing blood away from Ren's eyelid and lashes. Once he'd cleared it all away, he poured a bit of water in the cap of the water bottle, then carefully held Ren's eyelid open and dripped the clean water into his eye to flush it out. Ren made a small noise of discomfort, his eyelid twitching fitfully, trying to shut out the intruding water until Hux released it and allowed it to close again. Ren winced, shutting both eyes tightly, and Hux used a scrap of dry gauze to dab away they excess water, blood, and tears. When Ren hesitantly squinted his eye open again, the lid still fluttering as he fought the instinct to keep it closed, the surface of his eye looked miraculously clear and undamaged. "Can you see?"

Ren blinked a couple times, one more tear squeezing free from the corner of his eye and trailing down into the hair at his temple. "Yeah." 

Something about the tentative hope in that single word brought a lump to Hux's throat, and instead of replying he cradled Ren's head in his hands and leaned down to press a kiss to Ren's trembling mouth. Things were far from okay, but Ren hadn't lost his eye and he wasn't bleeding to death and in the morning maybe they could go back home. Hux gave himself a few precious seconds to bask in their shared moment of relief, then he finished cleaning Ren up and patching his wounds with gauze and tape and little butterfly bandages. The cut probably should be stitched, but Hux didn't have any sterile supplies for that. Even if he did, he doubted he could bring himself to try sewing Ren's face back together with no anesthetic. Instead, he did the best he could with what was available, and hoped beyond reason that Ren would heal without complications.

Once he finished bandaging Ren's injuries, Hux moved everything from the cargo area of the car into the front seat and put the back passenger seats down. He wouldn't know for certain until climbing in, but he was pretty sure the extended cargo space would be long enough to accomodate Ren laying down, and wide enough that they could both lay side by side. When he turned back to Ren, Hux saw him already sitting up and gingerly struggling to stand. He rushed over to try to help haul Ren up onto his feet, but since pulling on either of Ren’s arms would put strain on his injured side or shoulder there wasn't much he could do. Ren managed to stand on his own, anyway, and Hux offered support to walk him back to the car.

They kept a couple of blankets in the car just in case of an incident like this, where they might get stuck sleeping in the car again. Hux spread one out over the floor of the cargo area and tried to help Ren settle in comfortably before climbing in himself and shutting the back hatch. With only an inch or two to spare at either end, the cargo area turned out to be just long enough to accomodate them after all. Ren lay on his back and Hux spread the second blanket over him, curling up next to him as close as he dare but still too nervous to actually touch him. He couldn’t imagine how much pain Ren must be in already, and the last thing he wanted was to aggravate Ren’s injuries with a careless touch. After a moment or two, once Ren's breathing started to even out after the exertion of climbing into the car, Hux ventured to find Ren's hand under the covers and fold both of his own hands around it. Ren gave a weak squeeze in response, so Hux held tight. "Are you warm enough?"

"I'm- I'll be okay," Ren stammered. Hux wasn't convinced, but what more could he do? He wanted to pull Ren to lay against his chest and wrap around him, but moving Ren to lay in any position other than flat on his back would only put unnecessary pressure on his wounds. He had to settle for pressing as close as he could get and snaking his left arm out to drape across Ren's chest.

The sun was gone, and Hux felt strangely exposed watching the dark silhouettes of tree branches reach for the windows like clawed, angry hands. He had the unexpected urge to hum a lullaby, like his mother used to. There were a few nights when he was young where he and his mother had slept in the back of her car, curled up together for warmth and safety. She had stroked his hair and sang softly to him to ease his fear until he slept. He ached for that comfort now, wished he could provide something similar to Ren, but dread sat too heavily in his throat to even think of singing. Ren probably wouldn't appreciate it, anyway.

He couldn't imagine how Ren would be able to sleep through the pain of his injuries, but somehow he managed. Maybe the combined physical and emotional trauma of the day had left him so exhausted that he couldn't have stayed awake even if he wanted to. Meanwhile Hux was wide awake, ears straining to catch the sound of Ren's every breath, hand on his chest to monitor the beating of his heart, eyes trained on Ren's face for any sign of waking or discomfort. Irrational fear that Ren might quietly pass away in his sleep— _maybe he'd missed something while treating Ren's injuries. Maybe he was bleeding out internally. Maybe the knife had been laced with poison_ — kept him anxious and vigilant all night. For once it was Ren who slept soundly, while Hux barely closed his eyes until dawn.  
*

*  
The sun was almost set. A woman lounged sideways on an overly plush chair, digging dirt from under her thumbnail with the tip of a knife as she watched the last rays disappear over the treetops. The chair was a new addition to her quarters. It was ugly as hell, but incredibly comfortable. She wasn't normally one to choose comfort over aesthetics but the chair was also quite large, and positioned at the head of the room as it was it had a throne-like feel to it that she quite liked. Maybe if she could have it reupholstered in leather it would be more suitable.

One of her scouting teams was _late_ in returning, and she was growing impatient. If they didn't bring something very good home with them she was going to be extremely cross. She hated wasting fuel and supplies on unsuccessful scouting missions. She was also almost out of her favorite tea, and that had her in a bad mood already. Good news was well overdue, but it seemed less likely by the minute.

There was a noise outside, the sound of a door opening and footsteps coming down the hall. _About damned time._ She looked up expectantly, but when a single, scared-looking man entered alone she raised an eyebrow in question. This looked like bad news. "Where are the other two you left with?"

"Gone, ma'am," he replied. He seemed to be making a visible effort to stand up straight and not fidget with his hands, and as much as she hated cowering and fidgeting, this failed attempt to hide the behavior was almost worse.

" _Gone?_ Gone _where_? Dead? They ran off? You left them behind? They were abducted by space aliens?"

"Dead, ma'am. I'm sorry. They- they were killed, ma'am," he stammered uselessly.

"Obviously they were killed if they're _dead_ ," she said, lip curling in a sneer of disgust. "This is the second time I've sent you out with a scouting team and you've come back as the lone survivor of a failed mission. If I were the suspicious type I might start to wonder about that."

"I swear it wasn't my fault, ma'am! We ran into others, and they killed Benny and Steve!"

"Let me guess: They were both shot with a bow and arrow by the same angry red-headed wood-sprite that killed your last partner?"

"No! It wasn't—" he bit his lip and clenched his fists in frustration. It was amusing to watch him struggle to choose the right words to refute her bastardized recounting of his report about his last partner's death without offending her. "I-I never said I thought he was a leprechaun or a fairy or nothin' like that. I just said he was a red-head with a bow and arrow, and he shot Dale. And it wasn't him who got Benny and Steve, but he was _there!_ I know it was the same guy! Tall and skinny with red hair. He was with a big guy with black hair. The big guy... I didn't see what he did to Steve, but I found him dead. Then I saw him outside and he stabbed Benny in the neck with his own knife."

This was ridiculous. Exactly the sort of bad news she did _not_ want to hear right now. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. "So you know these men killed three of our people. Two of the murders you saw with your own eyes, and in both instances you just... let them get away with it? Ran off to protect your own skin like a fucking _coward_?"

"No, ma'am!" he shouted. Her head snapped up in warning that she didn't appreciate his tone and he immediately backpedaled, stammering again. "I-I mean, I ran away the first time, it was too dangerous. But I didn't run this time! I shot at them, and I shot the big guy. I dunno if it was enough to kill him or not, though... But that's not all. They drove off in _that car!_ The old grey hunk o' junk we been seein' around? It was them!"

That bit of news caught her attention. Several of her scouts had reported seeing the same ugly antique station wagon around, parked outside of different stores in there area. She always instructed them to keep out of sight and not to engage with other survivors unless provoked or in immediate danger, so there was never much information beyond "I saw it again." She'd been aware for some time that there were others in the vicinity leaching off of resources that should belong to _her_. It was a constant irritation before, but now they were killing her people as well. And one of them was wounded. This was an opportunity to solve a problem that had been plaguing her for months. "You're still an idiot and a coward, George, but you've done one thing right today."

"I-It's James, ma'am."

" _Do not_ correct me. If I cared what your name was, don't you think I'd remember it?" she snapped and James started, his spine going suddenly straight as if _better posture_ might make her less annoyed with him. Honestly, it did help slightly. It made him look a bit less pathetic. "As I was saying, you did one thing right. One of our _aggressors_ is wounded, and if the injury is serious enough then they'll likely be in need of medical supplies. We can use that." Gunshot wounds were serious business, even if the wound itself wasn't immediately fatal. Unless the other survivors had seriously stocked up on drugs and first-aid supplies they'd probably be desperate for both soon enough, and knowing what they would need made it easy to set a trap. "Have everyone meet me in the dining hall in 15 minutes. We have a new plan to discuss."  
*

*  
"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing!?"

Kylo didn't even look up from his work when Hux approached. Yes, he was exhausted and in pain and his body wasn't cooperating the way he would like, but there was no time to just lay around and convalesce. The plants needed to be tended, laundry needed to be washed, firewood needed to be gathered and stored inside to dry; none of these things could wait until he was _feeling better_ to do them. Currently he was harvesting onions before they all rotted. With all the rain the soil was too damp for them to be left in the ground any longer, and several had already started to go all slimy and gross. He pulled up another moldy-looking onion and tossed it aside into the "bad" pile. Fuck, they smelled terrible and it was making him queasy. "I'm doing what needs to be done."

"What 'needs to be done' is for you to rest until you've healed. You got shot less than two days ago and if you tear your wounds open again it'll only make things worse for the both of us. Go back inside, I can do this!"

"Well, you _weren't_ doing it, and now half our onions are rotten, so—"

" _I'm doing everything I can!_ " Hux snatched away the bucket of "good" onions and Kylo glared up at him, taking in his wide-eyed expression that bordered on panic, tears brimming on the edges of his lower lashes. Fuck. Hux was crying a lot lately, and Kylo hated it. He hated that he always felt like it was his fault even when Hux was crying about the cat or something else that was absolutely not his fault. He hated that he couldn't seem to do anything to stop it.

Kylo stood up from his work and was overcome with a sudden wave of dizziness, grainy darkness creeping into the edges of his vision. He realized too late that he was losing his balance and he surely would have fallen if it weren't for Hux grabbing his left arm to steady him. When his vision cleared, Hux's worried face was hovering in front of him with day-old stubble and a light dusting of new freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He _wanted_ to go inside and lie down. His side hurt, his head ached, he was nauseated and cold— _How was Hux comfortable in just a t-shirt when it was so chilly out?_ — but there was so much that needed to be done. "You can't do it all on your own."

"I can do _enough!_ I can live without onions, but I can't live without—" Hux's voice caught in his throat and his lips trembled for a moment before he bit them into a thin line. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let it out slowly, then when he opened them again he looked Kylo straight in the eye. His voice was steady but grave. "You're getting sick. If you don't let yourself rest, it'll only get worse."

He tried to protest, "It's fine, Hux. I'm fine," but he knew he was lying before the words had even left his mouth. Hux was already tucking himself under his left arm to steady him as he walked him back inside.

He was no doctor, but even he could recognize the signs of infection. Part of him wanted to hide it from Hux and hope he could fight it off on his own, but he knew better. Despite their efforts to keep the gunshot wound properly clean and covered, it wasn't healing. This was _bad_ , God, this was _so bad._ This really could kill him, and probably would if they didn't do something about it _quickly_.

It was a struggle to climb the ladder up to the loft, and once he managed it he went straight for the bed. Hux met him there and hovered nervously while he carefully lowered himself down to the mattress and stretched out on his back. As soon as he was down, Hux knelt on the bed beside him and pulled up his shirt. He was careful and thorough with cleaning and redressing the wound on Kylo's side, but he sighed when he finished, brows drawn together in concern. After a moment he draped a blanket over Kylo and reached up to press a cool hand to Kylo's cheek and forehead. His look of concern did not diminish. 

"We'll go out tomorrow to get what we need," Hux said, speaking more to himself than to Kylo, and Kylo didn't ask for clarification. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about it. He just closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so. Introducing: A Villain.
> 
> Idk what else to say other than sorry this is taking so long to write, and massive thanks to anyone who hasn't given up yet and is still reading.


	13. In Which Everything Goes to Shit (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is...
> 
> I'm just going to apologize now, okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're easily stressed or in a delicate place, you may want to wait until Chapter 14 is posted before reading this one. Please take care.

Nothing. This was the fifth place they'd stopped, and for the fifth time there was absolutely nothing of use inside. Not only were the medical supplies all gone, but in each case the building was entirely swept of anything remotely useful. It all seemed too aggressive and deliberate, and Hux was growing more nervous by the minute.

Hux walked back out to the car, got inside, and checked on Ren who was dozing in the passenger's seat. He'd insisted Ren wait in the car two stops ago, at least until he determined if each location had been completely cleaned out like previous ones. Though he honestly hated leaving Ren behind in the car, it seemed like a slightly less anxiety-inducing option when there could be zombies or murderers hiding inside and Ren was in no shape to defend himself. It was a testament to how awful Ren must be feeling that he only put up a token protest before giving in.

Ren definitely had a fever, and his bullet wound was looking ghastly. He had all the signs of a serious, life-threatening infection that was only getting worse by the day. He needed antibiotics. At this point he was absolutely not going to get better without them, and Hux was trying very hard not to panic. 

Every time he returned to the car, there was a pinch of fear at the back of his neck that he might find Ren dead in the passenger seat. After all the death he'd seen, all the death he'd _caused_ , their grasp on life felt so delicate. There was no way for him to know what the infection might be doing to Ren's body, if it was already damaging his vital organs or if he was already past the point of recovery even with the proper medication. As far as he knew, he might blink and Ren would be _gone_. Ren was strong, but sickness could take anyone, no matter how strong. Hux settled quietly back into the driver's seat and watched Ren until he determined by the slow rise and fall of his chest that he was still breathing, then started to look over his maps and contemplate his options.

Only pharmacies or actual medical facilities would have what they needed, and there were not very many of them to choose from nearby. Hux only had three more marked on his maps, and of those the closest one was a twenty minute drive in one direction while the second closest was a thirty-five minute drive in nearly the opposite direction. Everything was too damned spread out, and Hux was starting to worry that no matter which way they went they would only find more of the same: empty buildings, stripped bare of practically everything but the paint on the walls. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ease his growing frustration, and looked at the map again. The further destination might be their best option. It would take an additional 15 minutes or so to get there, but then there was a hospital about a 10 minute drive from there, giving them two possible locations to find what they needed as opposed to one in the other direction. His eyes traced the road on the map leading to where he wanted to go and he noticed a pen mark intersecting the road and he cursed suddenly, waking Ren with a start.

"What the fuck?" Ren straightened in his seat and pushed a hand through the tangled mess of his hair to get it out of his face, then he jerked away in surprise when Hux flung the map onto the dashboard, wincing when the sudden movement pulled at the wound in his side.

Hux caught Ren's painful grimace out of the corner of his eye and swallowed a fresh lump of guilt as he buckled his seatbelt and started the car. "I wanted to go north because there's a pharmacy and a hospital that way, but the road was blocked the last time we tried to go that way. I'd forgotten, but I marked it on the map. Someone may have cleared the way since then, but I'm not counting on that and it could take another half hour or more to go the long way around, so we may as well go to the one south of here instead."

Ren settled back into his seat and said nothing as Hux pulled around the building and out onto the road. The silence was like sandpaper on Hux's nerves. He'd grown so used to Ren's constant, inane commentary on his every decision that the sudden absence of it rankled him. It was like Ren had given up, like he didn't care if they found the medicine he needed, like he didn't care if he just dropped dead in his seat right then and there. It made him want to scream at Ren until he _did_ care, as if that were even possible, because being the only one to give a shit was completely exhausting. He didn't ask for this burden, and if Ren wasn't going to shoulder his fucking share of it then Hux may as well just drive this stupid car off a cliff.

After Hux had spent several minutes ranting furiously inside his own head, Ren glanced over at him and finally broke the silence. "Do you need me to drive?"

That was the stupidest question Hux had ever heard. Ren couldn't even stand up without getting dizzy and he could hardly stay awake! It was so ridiculous he wanted to laugh, but he worried that if he gave in to the fit of hysterics his brain might actually rupture a vessel. "What, so you can pass out suddenly while driving 80 miles an hour down the highway? No, I don't need you to fucking drive!"

"I'm just saying, if you're about to have a fucking meltdown or whatever, maybe you should at least pull over."

"I am _not_ having a _fucking meltdown or whatever_." He was not, he was not, he was _absolutely not_ , and even if he was he sure as fuck wasn't going to let Ren see it and have the satisfaction of being right. "Nice of you to decide to start giving a shit about what's going on, though. It's not like these are dire circumstances or anything. After all, I'm only taking massive risks in a last-ditch effort to keep you from dyi--"

" _Hux!_ "

Hux heard the implied command to _shut the hell up_ in Ren's shout, and despite the frustration and fear boiling over inside him he complied. Try as he may not to think about it there was a very real possibility that Ren _was_ going to die from this, but every time that horrific truth crossed his mind he shoved it away. He simply couldn't accept it, but Hux had never been one for rejecting reality, and he wouldn't admit to doing so now. He was just... exploring all options before giving up. Nothing irrational about that. And the fact that Ren had the energy to argue was a good thing, wasn't it? It meant that he _hadn't_ given up. That he was still fighting. That he still wanted to live. As long as Ren was still an angry, unpleasant asshat then everything was fine.

Silence prevailed for the next several minutes, broken only by the sound of the engine and Ren occasionally shifting in his seat. At least he seemed to be awake and alert now, even though he was obviously uncomfortable and probably in pain.

Finally their destination came into view on the other side of an overturned delivery truck that partially blocked the road, and Hux remembered why he had a particular dislike for this location and they hadn’t visited it since he’d marked it on the map. Across the street from the pharmacy was a small park with a fenced-in basketball court full of zombies. He couldn’t guess if a group had been sheltering within the fence and all ended up dying and turning somehow, or if someone had intentionally herded a group of zombies into the court and trapped them inside. It made him nervous to think about it either way, but at least they were securely caged for the time being unless the fence gave out. Hux tried to ignore them as he drove around to the back side of the pharmacy, where they were out of sight. Just having them out of view was enough to make him feel a bit better.

Hux opened the door to get out, but Ren’s grip on his elbow stopped him. Annoyed, he looked over at Ren and found him leaning forward in his seat, brows drawn slightly together and eyes scanning every inch of the area through the windows. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Hux stared at him flatly, nose wrinkled in irritation. “You’re sick, Ren. I’m sure nothing feels right.”

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. I mean something _here_ feels… off. I don’t like it. I don’t want you to go in alone.”

Hux agreed that something felt “off,” like he might be murdered if he so much as set foot outside the car, but then he’d felt that way for the last several weeks. If Ren was only just starting to feel that way, then he must not have been paying attention up until now. “So you want to come with me? Like you could protect me?” He scoffed and Ren glared at him. Ren would be a liability if anything went wrong. Still, a part of him did want Ren with him, though. He didn’t like leaving Ren outside, especially knowing there were several dozen zombies just around the corner, even though they were caged. But this could very likely be another empty building, and there was no sense dragging Ren inside for nothing. Hux sighed. “I’ll check inside to see if there’s anything useful. If there’s anything at all, I’ll come and get you and we can look it over together. If there isn’t, we’ll leave. All right?”

Ren still looked wary, but he relaxed his hold on Hux’s arm and leaned back in his seat again. “If you see anything weird, just come back. It’s not worth the risk.” Hux rolled his eyes and got out of the car. This could well be their last chance to find the medical supplies Ren needed. It most certainly _was_ worth the risk, and if Ren disagreed then he’d just have to find the energy to chase Hux down and physically drag him back to the car.

The lock on the back door was already broken from their previous visit, but that didn’t mean it was safe to wander inside without caution. Hux banged on the door as loudly as he could then stood to one side in case anything came rushing out, but when a full 60 seconds passed with no reaction he made his way inside.

The moment he entered, he could tell this was different from the other locations where they’d stopped that day. There were boxes in the storage room, several of them. That meant this place hadn’t been completely cleaned out yet! The antibiotics would be kept locked up elsewhere, though, either behind the pharmacy counter or maybe in a separate storage room, so he needed to see if that had been broken into yet. When he found the the drug storage room the door had already been broken open, and Hux couldn’t remember whether or not they had been the ones to do it. He braced himself for disappointment and pushed the door open, but the shelves lining the room inside looked miraculously full. Several things were askew as though someone had urgently picked a few items off of the shelves, but there was so much left. Tears of relief prickled at the corners of Hux’s eyes and he took a shaky breath, stepping across the threshold and blinking them away so he could read the labels when he heard a shout from outside, muffled by the concrete walls.

His name. Ren’s voice pitched sharp in alarm. _Oh, God--_

He turned and darted out of the room only to be stopped by a bruising grip on his arm and a knife at his throat.  
*

 

*  
Kylo wasn’t sure if they were really that stealthy or if he was too fucked up with fever to notice them sooner, but the result was the same either way. As soon as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, they were suddenly everywhere. Someone flung open the passenger door and Kylo shouted a warning to Hux as he grappled with a man dragging him out of the car with a firm grip on his injured shoulder. He gritted his teeth against the pain as he struggled, but when someone else shoved a gun in his face he relented and allowed himself to be pulled out to stand on unsteady legs. He didn’t see if any of them had gone inside after Hux, but maybe it didn’t matter at this point. Either they would go in after Hux or Hux would come out looking for him, and in both cases he was bound to be captured as well.

“Hands behind your head, dipshit. And walk. That way.”

Kylo’s mouth twisted into the most ferocious sneer he could manage at the person levelling a gun on him, but he complied. When he didn’t start walking immediately, the person behind him gave him an impatient shove and he stumbled, nearly falling on his face. After that, he let himself sway and stagger as he walked. He was a little bit lightheaded from the fever, but not so bad that he couldn’t walk straight. Let them think he was worse off than he actually was. If they thought he was so weak he could hardly walk, they might slip up and give him an opportunity to fight back, maybe even to escape.

His captors marched him across the street and forced him to his knees on a patch of dead grass next to the basketball court, his back toward the fence. The awful gurgling sounds of zombies pressing themself against the fence was so close behind him that it made the skin prickle on the back of his neck and every hair stand on end. His mind scrambled to collect details of the situation. There were five of these people in view, all armed but only one of them with a gun. The ground was dry, so he wasn’t likely to slip in mud or anything if he got a chance to run. Across the street he saw three more people exit the front door of the pharmacy: two armed people he didn’t recognize, and Hux walking in front of them. _Shit, shit, shit, shitshitshitshit--_

He let his head droop forward on his neck, as though he hardly had the strength to hold it upright. This made his hair hang in his face and block most of his peripheral vision, but that didn’t matter much. He’d already seen enough to know they were in a complete fuckton of trouble and they may not be able to get out. He heard footsteps switch from gravel to dry grass as Hux was brought over and made to kneel next to him, too far away to touch but close enough to hear Hux’s frightened breathing. Kylo felt like he should apologize. Why did all of this feel like it was _his_ fault? He was the one who warned Hux that something was wrong about this place, even though he hadn’t known what it was. _Hux should have listened to him._

The pain in his injured shoulder made it uncomfortable to keep his hands up behind his head for long, so he risked slowly letting this arms drop and come to rest at his sides with his hands palm-up on his lap so it was easy to see that they were still empty. Their captors seemed unconcerned, probably thought he was too injured and exhausted to keep them up anymore. Or they were just sloppy because they obviously had the two of them outmatched both in weapons and numbers. The carelessness was a good sign, but _shit_ this was bad. This was so fucking bad.

Someone else was approaching, Kylo had lost track of how many there were. He’d counted eight so far and wasn’t sure whether or not he’d counted this one already, but it made little difference at this point.

“Is the captain coming?”

“Yeah. I sent the signal as soon as I saw that junk-heap car drive up.”

“Good. She should be happy something went right for once.”

“Should be. It was _her_ plan after all, so she can claim all the credit. She’ll like that.”

Both people scoffed bitterly and dread started to ball up in Kylo’s gut. Obviously this had been a trap, but it sounded like it was meant to target he and Hux specifically. How long has these people known about them? And _how much_ did they know? How many of them were there? If they managed to escape, how long could they evade them without being caught again? Obviously this group didn’t know where their home was or they would have come after them there, but how much longer would it be before their home was discovered? Kylo shot a quick glance at Hux and saw that he’d gone ghostly pale, eyes wide. The same thoughts were probably going through his mind, too, assuming he hadn’t frozen up the way he used to in the face of danger.

There was the sound of a vehicle arriving somewhere off to the right. The engine cut out and seconds later there were more footsteps, crunching loudly when the person approaching reached a patch of gravel, then a throaty laugh and a startlingly familiar accented voice. “Oh my God. Of all possible scenarios, somehow I never expected this one.”

Kylo looked up at the tall and imposing figure at the same moment Hux gasped in recognition. 

“Phasma!” Hux let out a sharp, nigh hysterical laugh and moved to stand up. “Thank God. What are you doing here? I thought you went home to London.”

Phasma roughly shoved Hux down to the ground with a hand in his face. “Oh, no. Don’t get up. Stay right where you are. I don’t know why you sound so relieved.”

Hux picked himself up off the ground and nervously resumed his position on his knees, looking distressed and confused. “I-... we know each other.”

“Yes, we were _acquaintances_. Former _associates_ at work. If I ever seemed friendly to you, then it was only as a professional courtesy. You were my boss. Only an idiot would be openly hostile to their boss,” she said, pointedly looking at Kylo. “Unless you’re fucking them, I suppose, but that’s a low I could never sink to. You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Kyle.”

Every fucking word Phasma said crawled under his skin like an insect until his entire body tingled with rage. Some part of him wanted to refute her implication that he’d been fucking Hux for preferential treatment when he worked for him, but now that they _had_ started fucking in recent months, there wasn’t much point in that. He wasn’t really sure which of the things she said pissed him off the most, or if it was the way she shoved Hux down like a playground bully picking on a helpless target, but getting his name wrong was the fucking icing on the cake. “It’s _Kylo_.”

Phasma laughed again and rolled her eyes. “No, I still won’t believe your parents named you that. You look like shit, by the way. Well, you both do, but you especially, Kyle. Not feeling so well?”

“Fuck you.”

“Ren!” There was an urgent warning in Hux’s voice, and Kylo shot him a glare. If Hux wanted to play nice in hopes of negotiating, he was deluding himself. Whatever Phasma had against them, she’d already made it clear she wasn’t here to make friends. Hux was apparently determined to try, anyway. Doing his best to mask his fear, he looked up at her with desperation in his eyes. “What do you want, Phasma? We’re not here to cause problems. We can share our resources if we have something you need. Violence isn’t necessary.”

Phasma casually strolled forward to stand directly in front of them both, staring down at them cooly with her hands on her hips. “Shut up, Hux. I know you think you’re clever and you can outsmart everyone else, but we’re not here to negotiate. As far as I’m concerned, every ‘resource’ you have was probably stolen from us, anyway. And you morons have killed at least _three_ of my people. I can’t just make nice and send you on your way.”

A queasy emptiness settled into the pit of Kylo’s stomach. They’d killed five people collectively. Which of those were Phasma’s people? He supposed it probably didn’t make any difference. Phasma was surely going to kill them in revenge, anyway. _Unless they could find a way out. Unless they could escape. Oh, God, how could they possibly escape?_ Beside him, Hux was starting to panic. “I- We’ve only killed in self-defence! I swear, we--”

“I thought I told you to _shut up_ ,” Phasma snapped, her face suddenly full of cold fury, “I’ve been sick to death of your stupid, sniveling voice since the moment I met you. You’re right, Hux. We do know each other, or at least _I_ know _you_. I know that you’re a skinny, useless little snob who thinks he’s better than everyone else. I know that you’re weak, and a coward, and that there’s no fucking way you’d still be alive right now if you hadn’t attached yourself to someone stronger like the leech you are.”

Kylo’s hands clenched into fists, anger boiling up inside him until he thought his head might split open to let it out. She didn’t know Hux. She didn’t know him _at all_. Kylo may have thought and said some of the same things once, but that was before. Hux had risked his life so many times, he’d _saved Kylo’s life_ and protected him when he’d failed to protect himself. Hux wasn’t a fucking parasite. Neither of them would be alive right now without the other and _how fucking dare Phasma talk shit when she had no fucking clue!?_ He glanced over at Hux, expecting him to look hurt from her words and terrified at their situation, but instead his face had gone red, his eyes full of rage, and his mouth was twisted into a loathsome snarl. _Good_. If they were going to die, it was better to die angry than afraid. “What are you going to do if he _doesn’t_ shut up, Phasma? Kill him sooner? You’re not going to let us live no matter what either of us says or does.”

Phasma turned her icy stare on Kylo then, her face completely calm, and for a moment Kylo thought she wasn’t even going to react until her boot suddenly connected with the side of his face. He distantly registered Hux yelling his name in the moments where he struggled to make his body cooperate and pick himself up off the ground, his vision swimming and nearly going black for a moment. _FUCK, that hurt!! Holy shit, holy SHIT._ The inside of his cheek split open against his teeth, filling his mouth with the taste of blood. He thought he could feel blood running down the side of his face as well, but whether that was from the healing wound tearing open again or a fresh injury he couldn’t tell. Phasma’s voice thundered above him and made his head throb. “How about this: I could give you a quick and easy death, but if either of you says _one more fucking word_ I’ll have all of your limbs broken and feed you to the corpses?”

Everything hurt. Kylo was pretty sure he wouldn’t even be able to stand at the moment if he tried, but it did nothing to squelch his anger. He managed to climb back up to a kneeling position, glaring at Phasma through his blurred vision and the throbbing in his skull. That obnoxious asshole part of his brain that always got him into trouble screamed at him to challenge her. _Say one more fucking word. Just one. Do it._ If he’d been able to come up with a single word that was sufficiently shitty and offensive to encompass how he felt about Phasma in that moment, he would have definitely said it. So what if she killed him? He was dying, anyway.

There was movement in his peripheral vision. He guessed Hux must have tried to reach out or move toward him when he’d been kicked, because when he looked one of their captors was pinning his arms behind his back to restrain him in place. Hux struggled against the hold until he met Kylo’s eyes and saw that he was alert and sitting up again, then he went still. Kylo opened his mouth to reassure Hux he was okay, but with Phasma’s warning fresh in his mind he hesitated to speak, realizing his own life wasn’t the only one at stake. He might be dying anyway, but if Hux could escape he might still have a chance. Phasma was wrong about Hux. He wasn’t weak and Kylo was sure he could survive on his own if they could only get him out of this mess, so he looked away and said nothing. He _would not_ put Hux at further risk with his impulsiveness.

Phasma stood a short distance away with her back to them now, talking with some of her people. Kylo bowed his head and feigned weakness while he listened and tried to come up with even the most unrealistic plan. “Did you find anything when you searched them?”

“Yes, ma’am. The big guy didn’t have anything on him, but the redhead had these,” The man speaking held out Hux’s gun, flashlight, and the pliers with their bright yellow handles.

“Hm. These are nice,” she took the pliers and looked them over before tucking them in her back pocket. “We’ll put the gun in the weapon rotation if we have compatible ammunition for it back at the base.”

The man nodded and went somewhere out of Kylo’s range of vision, then a dark-haired woman to Phasma’s left spoke up. “What do you want us to do with them?”

Phasma glanced over her shoulder at them and gave an exaggerated, thoughtful hum. “Let’s see. The one is obviously dying already. Killing him would be a mercy, and I’m not so sure how merciful I’m feeling today. The other couldn’t possibly keep himself alive on his own, so he’s not even a threat.”

Kylo’s blood boiled, and through the fringe of his hair he could see that Hux was quietly seething as well. Phasma was obviously monologuing just to fuck with them and revel in her own sense of power, so Kylo tuned her out before she could goad him into doing something stupid. He had to focus through the sickness and the pain and _think_.

There was one person standing over each of them, armed with a variety of blunt and bladed weapons. He’d still only seen the one person with a gun, so maybe they didn’t have many of those and they used them sparingly. Even Phasma only carried a machete sheathed on her belt. Behind him, he could still hear the raspy growls and gurgles, bodies shuffling, the fence rattling, all of it intensified now as the presence of so many living people had stirred the zombies’ attention. Kylo risked looking over his shoulder to see just how close he was to the fence and noticed that he was right near a double-wide gate in the chain link fence, chained closed in the middle and locked with a rusted old combination lock. Several zombies pressed against the gate, reaching for the living people through the gaps, and causing the entire thing to bow outward ominously. 

“What’re you looking at? You wanna join ‘em?”

Kylo lifted his head to look up at the man guarding him. He was tallish and broad, and smirking down at Kylo in a way that made Kylo want to break his fucking nose. _Smug asshole thinks he’s so fucking tough standing over unarmed people with is big fucking ax, what a worthless sack of shit-- wait._ A plan was starting to piece itself together. The zombies. The gate. The big fucking ax. If he made a big enough distraction, maybe Hux could make it to the car and escape. Odds were very slim that he would survive this himself, but as long as Hux got out it didn’t matter. He only had to live long enough to cause the biggest shit-storm as he possibly could, and the rest was up to Hux.

“What, no witty comeback? Did she actually scare you into silence?” The guard in front of Kylo jabbed at his injured shoulder with the handle of the ax and when Kylo hissed in pain the guard laughed. “Go on, say something. Maybe she’ll let me break your legs.” Kylo felt his lips twist into a snarl. This asshole was almost definitely going to die today. He was obviously a sadistic sack of shit and Kylo needed his ax, anyway. If he went down, he would make sure to take this guy with him. 

Hux shifted next to him and Kylo looked over and met his eyes. He wished he could explain everything to Hux, tell him to run and not look back. He wished he could tell him goodbye, that he was sorry, that he believed Hux was strong enough to make it on his own. He wanted to thank him for the last several months of his life. There was so much he wanted to say that his chest ached. Maybe it was for the best he couldn’t say any of these things. Hux had a tragic look in his eye like he was pleading for Kylo not to do something stupid, so maybe he understood well enough without words.

“Don’t look at your boyfriend, bitch, I’m talking to you.” The guard used the handle of his ax to forcefully turn Kylo’s head back toward him, crushing the swollen split on the inside of his cheek against his teeth in the process, which _fucking stung_. Kylo glared up at him with every ounce of rage and vitriol he possessed, then he spat a mouthful of blood at the guy’s feet.

The guard tried to jump back out of the way, but blood and saliva spattered across the toes of his shoes. “What the hell, you nasty fuck!?” He grabbed Kylo by the front of his jacket, hauled him to his feet, and shook him violently. “You think you’re clever? You think you’re tough? I’ll fucking kill you!” Kylo’s entire body ached, his injuries burned, the pain in his head was made exponentially worse by the shaking and screaming in his face. He heard Phasma’s voice yelling as well but couldn’t make out her words over the noise of the zombies behind him. The guard pushed him back, closer to the fence, and he felt a touch graze the back of his jacket.

A grim smile split Kylo’s face, showing his teeth stained pink with blood, and he laughed darkly.

The guard’s face twisted into a hateful grimace. “You think this is funny, bitch?” 

There was not one single fucking thing about this that was funny. But it was over now, and this asshole had no idea. Kylo just hoped it would be enough to save Hux.

Kylo gripped the guard’s shirt, twisted, and threw him against the fence. The zombies latched onto him immediately, tearing and biting at every part of him they could reach. There was movement, noise all around as Phasma’s people scrambled in alarm, and before anyone could stop him Kylo grabbed the ax and struck lock on the gate with all of his strength. The rusted lock broke open and zombies spilled out onto the dry grass, crawling over each other, reaching for Kylo and every other living person in the area. Kylo stumbled backward, away from the writhing corpses. The guard, still screaming and struggling behind him, caught hold of Kylo’s jacket and caused him to trip and fall to his knees.

Phasma was shouting commands at her people as they either ran for cover or tried to fight off the encroaching mass of zombies. Kylo was trying to break free of the dying guard’s grasp when he saw Hux, still kneeling a short distance away with his face frozen in abject terror. _What are you doing? Don’t you see I did this for you? Get out of here, Hux, you have to survive for both of us. Please!_ “RUN, YOU ASSHOLE!!”

The shout seem to break Hux out of his paralysis and he scrambled to his feet, fumbling in the sleeve of his jacket until he produced the knife he kept hidden there. Kylo turned to face the oncoming horde, which was almost on him. They would have surely reached him already if most of them hadn’t been distracted going after Phasma’s group. He gave one final tug on his jacket, finally pulling it free of the guard’s weakening grip, and he staggered to his feet. He still had the ax so he swung it at the nearest zombie and caved in its skull, but the ax was heavy and his body was tired. He couldn’t keep fighting them off for long, but maybe he could still move fast enough to outrun them. When he scanned the chaos for an escape route he caught sight of Hux’s orange hair like a beacon, zig-zagging his way through the crowd. Hope and despair knotted in his chest. Hux would escape, but he’d be on his own. Even if Kylo escaped as well there was no guarantee he would survive very long with infection killing him, but he had to try.

Kylo gripped either end of the ax handle and used it to shove another approaching zombie toward one of Phasma’s people, then he ran as fast as his injuries and exhaustion would allow. After stumbling a few times, he dropped the ax. The weight of it was slowing him down, and speed was the most important thing right now. When he scanned the crowd for Hux again, he caught a glimpse of him rushing through the front door of the pharmacy. _Good. Maybe he would take cover inside, and run out the back door to the car._

There were so many more zombies than he realized, so many more people in Phasma’s group as well, but Phasma herself was nowhere in sight. Her people were fighting for their lives but, assuming she wasn’t one of the ones on the ground being devoured, she had apparently run off to safety. Kylo fought and dodged his way through the carnage around him for what felt like hours, his last reserves of energy rapidly fading. When he finally reached the door to the pharmacy he was about to collapse, but he had enough strength left to yank the door open and duck inside.

 _Fuck_. There were zombies in here, too, and in a split second he tried to mentally prepare himself to die fighting them off, but they weren’t paying any attention to him. They were occupied with something else, something on the floor. There was blood and, before Kylo could even think to be worried about the identity of this victim, he caught a glimpse of a familiar brown sleeve amongst the gore.

Hux’s jacket. _No, no, no, nononono please, God, please no--_

Shock, horror, anger, disbelief, all at once rose up to choke him as he fell back against the door, his weight pushing it open and he stumbled back outside. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t think past the phrase _this isn’t real_ repeating over and over in his head like a mantra. He was still moving, though he didn’t understand why or how. When he found himself in the driver’s seat of the Falcon, he wasn’t even sure how he got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, deep breaths. Please note that I _did not tag this for Major Character Death._ And I absolutely promise that is something I would have tagged for.
> 
> I'm also incredibly sorry for how long it has taken me to get this chapter out. Aside from the fact that this was just really hard for me to write, I've been struggling with a lot of things irl for the past couple months that have made writing, and life in general, really difficult. Things have been getting a little better, though, and next chapter should hopefully be less stressful to write. We're getting very close to the end, and things should be getting better from here on out.
> 
> Thank you for patiently sticking with me.
> 
> Side note: Can you guys guess how excited I am about The Dead Don't Die? Because holy shit. HOLY SHIT, YOU GUYS.


	14. Endure

He didn’t remember starting the car. He didn’t remember driving. His perception of the world around him felt like it was filtered through a thick, suffocating fog that blocked out all sound and light. Some fragment of his brain must have been able to function through it, running on base instinct to get to safety, to go home.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. When he tried to focus he had vague memories of driving heedlessly through a small cluster of zombies as he left the pharmacy. There were also moments of anxiety where he wasn’t sure he was going the right way without Hux to guide him with his maps, but those were always drowned out with waves of apathy because _what the fuck did it matter whether or not he got home?_ What was waiting for him there? Suffering alone, waiting for his infected injuries to slowly kill him? There were a few times where he thought he could just drive the car into a tree and end it sooner rather than later, but then he couldn’t guarantee that the crash would kill him quickly. The Falcon didn’t deserve that, anyway. It hadn’t done anything wrong except for that time it broke down and left them stranded for a day until they managed to fix it.

Memories from that day came flooding back vividly. The car sputtering and stalling. Checking under the hood. Arguing with Hux about fixing it, how to fix it, if they should bother to fix it at all or just find a new car instead. He remembered Hux getting in his face as they fought, thinking Hux might punch him and being surprised when Hux kissed him roughly instead; teeth sharp against his lower lip, Hux’s hip bone grinding uncomfortably into his, frustrated hands fumbling with clothing, the smell of engine oil and antifreeze when Hux bent him over the front of the car and fucked him senseless. Afterward, Hux had been distressed because he’d allowed himself to get carried away and had sex in _public_ where anyone could have seen, and Kylo had gestured to their desolate surroundings and laughed at him.

Why had he spent so much time laughing at Hux? Teasing him? Making his life miserable? At the time it felt like Hux deserved it, but looking back now it all just seemed like unnecessary meanness. He could’ve been nicer. He could’ve made sure Hux knew he cared. _Did he even know? Had Hux died thinking no one gave a shit about him? With Phasma’s insults fresh in his mind, and Kylo calling him an asshole with the last words he spoke to him?_ Why did he have to fuck up every single relationship in his life? All of the people he’d cared for the most were dead now, and they’d all died thinking he didn’t love them.

He should be dead. Every single thing he’d done since seeing Hux’s bloodied jacket sleeve amid the crowd of zombies had been a mistake. He should have quit right then and there, just walked out the door and into the nearest pack of corpses and let them tear him to pieces. He should have never come home, where all that awaited him was despair and a slow, painful death. But he’d fucked up and now he was just sitting in his dad’s old car, staring at the steering wheel because he didn’t think he had the will or the strength to move ever again. If he sat here and didn’t move for the rest of his life, how long would it take him to die? Maybe he would find out.

His head hurt. His body hurt. He felt cold and sore all over, but his mind was numb and fuzzy as if his skull was stuffed with cotton swabs or pillow fibers. Some part of his brain that was still running on base logic was trying to decide if this was one of the “five stages of grief” his old therapist talked about when he was a kid and his grandpa died. Denial, anger, depression, numbness, lying motionless on the ground until the Earth swallows you whole and you can reunite with your loved ones in death. Something like that. 

After he’d sat motionless for an indeterminable length of time, he became aware of a soft whining sound. At first he assumed it was coming from himself, since there was no one else around. He thought maybe he was making pathetic crying sounds without even realizing it, but it occurred to him that his vocal chords probably weren’t even capable of producing such a high-pitched noise. It didn’t really matter where it was coming from, though. He didn’t care. But he couldn’t quite ignore it, either, because it was _annoying_. Then there was very light _thump_ on the hood of the car, followed by several soft, rapid taps like tiny footsteps. The whining sound was louder now, but he still didn’t recognize it for what it was until he lifted his eyes and saw Millicent’s familiar orange face peering through the windshield at him.

A tiny spark of joy caught him by surprise, but it was quickly smothered by a wave of grief when he thought how happy Hux would have been to see her. How he’d missed her so much, and he’d beaten himself up over losing her. Hux had been so certain she was dead, but she’d come home alive and well, and now he’d never know she was okay. His vision swam with hot tears and his entire chest heaved as the first strangled sob finally broke free. Suddenly he was getting out of the car, stumbling around the open door to gather the stupid cat into his arms and clutch her against his chest while she purred and rubbed her head against every part of him she could reach. She must have been terribly lonely, because she tolerated his shaking and sobbing without complaint. She tolerated him even though he wasn’t _Hux_ , the one who coddled her and fed her and played with her.

Kylo didn’t think he could be any more miserable, but somehow that last thought made it all even worse. Millicent didn’t know Hux was never coming back, and there was no way to make her understand. He wasn’t sure if cats could remember things for years or even months, but he was overwhelmed by the idea that she might spend the rest of her life waiting for Hux to come home. Before too long, she wouldn’t even have Kylo to feed her and keep her company. Maybe she would eat him after he died, and he could rest in peace knowing he’d be keeping her fed for a while longer even after he was gone. It was better than being eaten by zombies, at least.

Millicent squirmed and mewled desperately in his arms and he realized she was probably hungry _right now_. She’d been lost and alone for so long with no easy meals or adoring human to hand feed her from his own plate. She wasn’t all skin and bones like she had been when Hux first found her, but she’d obviously lost weight since she’d been away. Hux wouldn’t have liked that _at all_. He’d probably already be fussing over her and feeding her some of the fancy canned food they’d found if he were here. Kylo could imagine how he would pet her and talk to her while she ate, telling her how worried he’d been while she ignored him and scarfed down her food as quickly as her tiny mouth would allow. But Hux wasn’t here to do that and never would be again, so it fell to him to take care of her as best he could in Hux’s absence. It’s what Hux would want.

Kylo sniffled and scratched Millicent behind her ears as he carried her inside the shed on exhausted, unsteady legs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Millie, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you, it’s okay.” He knew he sounded pitiful, voice wavering around his lies. It wasn’t okay, it was never going to be okay, and soon he wouldn’t be here to take care of her, either. Even though he knew she couldn’t understand his words, he still felt guilty for lying to her. Any comfort she found in him felt like a lie.

It was harder than he expected to set her down gently on the ground; his back and legs hurt, and he got dizzy and almost lost his balance when he started to bend forward. Thankfully she helped him out by leaping from his arms as soon as he loosened his grip. She hit the ground running, trotted straight for the place where her food bowl used to be and looked back at him expectantly when she found it missing. Hux had hid it away on a shelf, tucked behind their stockpile of toothpaste because looking at it made him upset all over again. 

Millicent cried and circled the spot where her bowl belonged while Kylo knocked half of the toothpaste tubes off the shelf in his haste to retrieve it for her. He fumbled through cans of cat food on another shelf until he found one with a pull-tab that looked easy to open, and she nearly tripped him by weaving around his ankles as he walked back to her feeding spot. The smell of it when he popped the can open turned his stomach, but he held his breath and shook the gelatinous gravy and pâté chunks out into the bowl with a disgusting _plop_. Millicent was digging her claws into his leg at this point, practically climbing him in her impatience. Kylo cringed at the needle-sharp claws and crouched slowly, doing his best to ensure he didn’t fall over as he delivered her food. As soon as the bowl was within reach, her face was inside ravenously lapping up the contents.

Bowl now safely placed on the floor, Kylo stayed crouched where he was for a few minutes watching her eat with tears streaming down his cheeks, mingling with the dried blood on the right side of his face and making the open wound burn. Not that the additional pain bothered him. There was so much pain in the rest of his body that he hardly noticed the slight sting of his tears in comparison. Absently, he reached out to stroke Millicent’s back and bit back a fresh sob when she arched against his palm and purred. She had no idea. No idea the person who loved her most in the world would never pet her like this again, and why did that seem so much more tragic than his own loss?

He knew he should probably make some sort of attempt to clean and dress his injuries, but standing up again seemed so daunting at the moment, let alone climbing up to the loft to retrieve the first aid supplies. It wasn’t the sort of thing he should put off, but he was so exhausted and the pile of unwashed laundry right next to him suddenly looked like the most comfortable place in the world to be. Before he’d really even considered what he was doing he was already crawling into the laundry pile. He shifting things around in the pile so they wouldn’t press against his injuries when he lay down. One of Hux’s shirts was on top of the pile and he buried his face in it, inhaling the scent of stale sweat. He knew it was probably a stupid romantic notion to want to wrap himself in Hux’s scent, and admittedly it wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it was all he had left now.

He needed so badly to rest, at least for a little while. Once he recovered a little bit of strength, he would worry about treating his wounds and taking care of Millicent. But maybe he would die here. Just fall asleep and never wake up. That would be fine with him.  
*

*  
The moment Ren spit on that guard’s shoes, everything went strange. Every sound was suddenly too loud, a frightening concussive force all around him, and yet his ears registered nothing. Color drained from the world except for shining bright red on Ren’s face and lips and dripping down his chin. Things were moving impossibly fast, yet he saw every minute detail as though it were all in slow motion. The guard dragging Ren to his feet, Ren’s monstrous grin, zombies reaching through the fence, the elegant turn-and-throw that sent the guard into their waiting arms like a dance instead of a murder.

Hux was frozen in place watching it all play out like a child watching a horror film, terrified but unable to look away. Ren struggled to break free while dead things crawled toward him-- _Oh, God, Ren! Ren!!_ \-- They locked eyes.

_RUN, YOU ASSHOLE!!_

_Run… run?... NO!!_ Hux sprang to his feet and reached inside his jacket sleeve for his knife, the one scrap of hope he’d been clinging to since it was overlooked when he was captured and searched. He couldn’t run. Ren was in trouble and those monsters were going to fucking eat him if he--

When Hux looked up again, knife in hand, Ren had gotten himself free and was swinging that massive ax to devastating effect against the approaching zombies. Apparently he didn’t need Hux’s help after all, but they still needed to get the hell out of here. There were zombies _everywhere_ , but fortunately Phasma’s people were now completely occupied dealing with them and seemed to have forgotten about their prisoners. Phasma herself was shouting at her people to “Fight them off!” “Stay where you are!” “Kill them!” and while some of them ignored her orders and ran, others stood their ground and fought.

With machete in-hand, Phasma appeared to be more calmly annoyed with the situation than concerned about her people. She swung her blade and cut through skulls with disturbing ease while she shouted orders. Hux didn’t even notice that she was backing away from the fight until she reached the edge of the street and she turned to run. While her people were fighting off zombies and dying on her orders, she was running. And she’d dared to call _him_ a coward!? He thought he’d reached the peak of his capabilities to hate someone when she was standing over them with all the control gloating about her plans to murder them, but apparently not. Then he caught a glimpse of yellow handles sticking out of her back pocket as she ran.

_She still had his fucking pliers!!_

The rage that swept over him was so extreme he stopped thinking, practically lost all sense of where he was and what was happening. He forgot about the danger, about Ren, all he knew was that he couldn’t let her get away. Phasma made her way through the crowd, heading across the street for the pharmacy, and Hux was dodging through the chaos after her, running as hard and fast as he physically could. 

She was so far ahead that he wasn’t sure he could catch up to her until she slowed down to attack a zombie in her path, but this time her machete lodged in its skull and stuck there. When an attempt to pull it out only resulted in the corpse’s entire head coming off, still attached to the knife, she tossed the whole mess aside and kept moving. A few more steps and she was ducking inside the front door of the pharmacy, the door closing slowly behind her on hydraulic hinges. Hux reached the door seconds later and yanked it open again before it was even fully closed. Phasma glanced over her shoulder just in time for Hux to barrel straight into her, catching her off balance and knocking her to the floor. She looked surprised and furious in equal measure.

Hux was momentarily at a loss for what to do. He’d never in his life initiated an altercation like this, nor could he remember ever having the upper hand in a physical fight. It cost him a few vital moments while he rapidly tried to figure out what to do with Phasma now that he’d caught her. Did he actually want to kill her? Hating someone so much he wanted them to die was one thing, but actually murdering them face-to-face with his own hands was something else entirely. And he _did_ hate her for how she shoved him around and mocked him like a fucking schoolyard bully; for how she brutally attacked Ren when he was weak, unarmed, and at her mercy; for how she casually chatted about her plans to have them killed like they were nothing more significant than cockroaches in her cupboards. 

When she got over her shock and started struggling to throw him off, he finally remembered the knife in his hand and put it to her throat. She went still when she felt the blade on her skin, but sneered up at him in disgust as though she was merely offended instead of facing any actual danger. Hux’s anger flared back to its full blaze and he pressed the edge of his blade firmly under her jaw. “Still think I’m not a threat, Phasma?”

Phasma said nothing, her eyes widening with the first sign of fear, and Hux felt a spark of satisfaction until he noticed that she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at something _behind_ him. Anxiety prickled at the back of his neck and he glanced over his shoulder to see several zombies had reached the door before it closed and were now crowding their way inside. Before he could even react to the danger, Phasma took advantage of his distraction and grasped his wrist, forced the knife away from her throat and hit him hard in the side of the face.

Hux could take a punch, had taken hundreds throughout his childhood, but Phasma was twice as big and probably five times as strong as any of the stupid, overly aggressive schoolboys he’d faced growing up. Even disadvantaged as she was in such close quarters with no leverage, he didn’t think anyone had ever ever hit him so hard. He held fast to the knife when she tried to wrest it from his hand even as the world went fuzzy and wobbly around him for a moment. With his thoughts muddled from the blow he suddenly became _fixed_ on the certainty that if he lost the knife, he would lose everything. He held on tight enough that his fingernails cut into his own palm, and when his grip wouldn’t budge she hit him again, and again. When he _still_ kept his grip, she twisted his wrist instead and forced the blade toward his face. Hux flinched way just enough that it missed his eye, but it still slashed a horizontal line of fire from the crest of his cheek almost to his earlobe.

The searing cut shocked him in a way that Phasma’s punches hadn’t, and when he gasped in pain Phasma threw him off. The next thing he knew she was looming over him, then grabbing the front of his jacket and hauling him to his feet and _shit, he’d lost his knife. When had he dropped it!? God, he was so fucked, it was all over now._ She slammed him backward against the shelves lining the aisle where they stood, the edges impacting his spine and the back of his head and everything went black for a moment, but he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t just _let her win!_ He clenched his right first and swung as hard as he could only for Phasma to catch his wrist, use his own momentum from the punch to turn him around, and wrench his arm upward behind his back at an angle it _absolutely was not meant to bend._ There was an audible _pop_ and a blinding pain so intense it made his ears ring. Or maybe that was his own screaming.

_This was a mistake. This was a huge fucking mistake._ What the hell had he been thinking? She was _bigger than Ren_ for fuck’s sake, and he belatedly recalled that she’d been a fitness major as well. What the hell had made him think he stood a chance against her in a fight like this? Obviously he hadn’t been thinking at all. He let anger overcome his good senses, and it was going to cost him his life.

Phasma grabbed the collar of his jacket and forcefully turned him toward the doorway where a pack of zombies had managed to push inside the heavy door before it closed. Now they were shuffling toward them, only a few yards away-- _feet? Inches? God, they were so close_ \-- and his pulse raced in his throat. His arm hung limp and useless in Phasma’s grip, his shoulder throbbing worse than any pain he’d ever experienced. This was it. He was going to die. There was no escape this time. No one to save him. Ren wasn’t here. _Ren. Fuck, was Ren even still alive? He should have stayed with Ren. They should have escaped together. They could have been in the car, driving to safety right now if he’d only stayed with Ren._

Phasma leaned close, her cheek touching his hair, and her breath tickled the top of his ear when she spoke. “I think I’ve changed my mind, Hux. Maybe I like the sound of your voice. You could scream some more. Or beg for mercy. I think I’d like to hear that. Who knows? Maybe I’ll save your miserable life.”

Even aside from his stubborn determination to stay alive, Hux wanted to deny Phasma whatever twisted pleasure she would take in his death out of sheer spite. He wanted her words to stoke the fires of his anger back to the righteous blaze it has been moments ago, but terror overwrote everything. What good would anger do him now, anyway? That’s what had gotten him into this mess to begin with. He tried to struggle against Phasma’s hold, but every movement only made fresh spikes of excruciating pain shoot through his arm. She gave him a false shove toward the zombies only to yank him back again by his jacket collar, laughing at the yelp of pain and fear that tore from his throat.

Despite his need to get far away from Phasma as quickly as possible, he found himself backing closer to her because no matter how bad she was, the zombies were worse. He pushed against her as hard as he could, but she may as well have been a brick wall because she didn’t budge an inch. He was going to die. She was going to block his escape and hold him there until they reached him, or maybe she’d shove him into their gaping maws whenever it suited her. He couldn’t push past her, she was _stronger than him._

A split second of clarity cut through the panic and agony and Phasma’s ugly laughter. He’d never overcome a single damned obstacle in his life with _strength_. He didn’t have to be stronger. 

The aisle they stood in was narrow, but maybe it was just wide enough. For all his effort to move backward, Phasma just pushed back and held him in place with a death grip on his jacket. So he changed direction, stepped forward and to the side, shrugging his left arm out of his jacket sleeve as he moved. When Phasma stumbled forward from the sudden _absence_ of his presence to push against he turned and let her momentum carry her past him, sliding his limp right arm free from his jacket in the process. Before she could recover he rammed his left shoulder into her back and the extra shove sent her sprawling into the grasping mass of ravenous zombies, still clutching his jacket.

The horrible shriek that ripped from her throat as monsters tore into her flesh sounded more enraged than pained or frightened. Hux’s hatred for her didn’t stop his stomach from heaving at the sight and he turned away, quickly stumbling down the aisle in search of safety with the sound of Phasma screaming and cursing his name following him until her last breath left her.

He needed to find Ren, or maybe Ren would find him, but maybe Ren was dead and _shit_ he couldn’t think about that. The pain in his arm was so much he thought he might pass out or throw up, but neither of those things had happened yet so he kept moving. His head was swimming and his face and neck hurt but why-- _Oh, that’s right. He’d been hit in the head several times._ The pain in his shoulder was so excruciating all on its own that it completely distracted him from the many other aches and pains in his body. He needed to sit down, just for a minute or two so he could sort himself out, but it wasn’t safe here and he wasn’t sure he could make it to the car.

Hux was practically crawling by the time he reached the far end of the aisle, except he had to remain partially upright because his right arm was still fucking useless. He just hoped whatever was left of Phasma would keep the zombies occupied long enough for him to find safety, because he was pretty certain he _was going to lose consciousness_ within in the next few seconds. But there was nowhere to hide and if he passed out in the open he was as good as dead.

He remembered the drug storage room was just around the corner. He might be able to make it that far, but with the door lock broken how secure would it really be? It seemed like his only option, though. He staggered toward it as quickly as he could manage, but every part of him felt so heavy, like his bones were full of lead. When he finally reached the door he fell inside, wrenching his arm against the doorframe on his way down and he lay on the floor gasping and whimpering for what what felt like hours before the pain lessened enough that he could move again. Then he dragged himself further into the room, just enough that he could kick the door shut. After that, he wasn’t sure if it was unconsciousness or lack of light in the storage room that made everything go black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN, I'm so very sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. T_T I struggle so much with writing fight scenes, and I've written and re-written this one several times. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I had to just let it go so I could move on with this story. We're on the home-stretch now, and we're almost done! The next chapter is something I've been excited to write for a long time, so hopefully the words will flow smoothly and I'll get it done pretty quickly.
> 
> All scenes with Millicent in this fic are dedicated to my sweet girl and writing-buddy Phoebe, who I lost June 21st. She was my precious fur-child for 16 years. I loved her so much and I miss her to pieces. I didn't want to mention this in the notes from last chapter because I didn't want to hint too much at Millicent's return. Phee's passing didn't change my original plans for Millicent, I always intended to reunite her with Ren for this scene, but obviously it made this part a little more emotional for me to write.
> 
> Special thanks to [RaisedByCats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisedByCats/pseuds/RaisedByCats) for helping me beta this chapter, and to all my twitter friendos who have kept encouraging me through all my stress and struggles. And thanks to all of you for sticking around for this update. Only one more chapter to go!


	15. Fever Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like that movie Incredible Journey, except instead of two dogs and a cat it's just one sad, lonely Hux.
> 
> [Jeusus](http://jeusus.tumblr.com/) has blessed me again with her beautiful depiction of [this tragic scene from Chapter 14](http://jeusus.tumblr.com/post/177819348078/his-vision-swam-with-hot-tears-and-his-entire) which is a perfect companion piece to the one she drew for Chapter 8. Please go look at it and tell her how great it is because I love it and it makes me cry. T_T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for thoughts of suicide in this chapter.

Stuck in the limbo of unconsciousness in a pitch black room, Hux had no idea how much time was passing. He could have been laying there for days, or maybe only minutes, there was no way for him to know. A few times he thought he opened his eyes and got up, went outside looking for the car and found Ren there asleep in the passenger’s seat. He was pretty sure those were dreams, though, because he moved all wrong. Too easily, barely even touching the ground. Also because time kept resetting and starting back in this pitch black room. Life didn’t do that, he was pretty sure about that, too.

When he finally did wake up for real the room was just as dark whether his eyes were open or closed and when he tried to reach up and touch his face to confirm whether or not his eyes were open, he gasped in pain. _Fuck, his shoulder!_ It hadn’t ever stopped hurting, but moving at all made it exponentially worse. And his face and neck and back and all the other parts of him hurt like-- Well, like he’d had the living hell beaten out of him, so that made sense. He supposed that was the most reliable indicator that he actually was awake this time.

Another difference between this and the other times he thought he’d woken up were the noises he could hear outside the door. Scraping footsteps, thumping, crunching sounds, all seemingly right outside the door. For some reason he’d thought maybe the zombies would wander back outside after a while, but that was a ridiculous notion. They probably couldn’t figure out how to get outside. His options were to lay here in agony for days or weeks or however long it might take for him to die, or he could go out and be torn apart by corpses because he was unarmed and in no shape to fight them off. This was it, then. He really was going to die. But unless zombies suddenly learned how to turn a doorknob, he had plenty of time to lay there and ponder his regrets. Maybe he could pinpoint the exact moment his life went wrong.

He’d hardly even begun lamenting every decision he’d ever made before there was a hard knock against the door that startled him, but somehow he managed to stay silent despite the jolt of pain through his arm when he flinched at the sound. A moment passed with only the sound of his pulse thrumming in his ears, then the knob rattled and the door swung open, dousing him suddenly in light from outside that stabbed at his eyes. On reflex he tried to shield his eyes, but the aborted movement _hurt_ so much that he let out a ragged, pained groan. He blinked a few times, waiting for his eyes to adjust so he could at least see his imminent demise coming. Maybe Phasma’s zombified corpse had come to finish him off in some sort of twisted revenge from beyond death. On second thought, maybe he didn’t want to see that.

He could see a figure silhouetted in the doorway, but it wasn’t shuffling toward him as he expected. Instead it stood still, crouched slightly with some sort of stick held at the ready to attack, or maybe to defend. As his vision adjusted, he could see the person’s posture slowly relaxing until they had lowered the stick and were standing completely upright. The person’s skin was entirely covered from head to toe, complete with some sort of ski goggles and a cloth tied around their face. From their stature, he thought they were probably either a woman or an adolescent.

“Where’s your friend?”

The crisp British accent surprised him. _Why the hell were there so many British people in the middle or Georgia? And was she asking about Ren specifically? Did she know about him? Or was she just checking whether he had any companions nearby?_

When he did nothing to respond other than lay there looking pained and confused the person pulled the cloth down to hang around their neck and pushed the goggles up onto their head, revealing the face of a very young woman. He didn’t recognize her as one of Phasma’s people, but then he hadn’t exactly memorized all their faces, either, and he couldn’t be too careful. She took a step into the room and Hux struggled to push himself upright and move further away. Not that being a few more inches back would save him if this girl intended to kill him, but he couldn’t just lay there and accept his fate, either.

The girl stopped and raised a placating hand. “I won’t hurt you unless you give me a reason to. I’m not in the habit of attacking helpless people. There are plenty of monsters already without the living becoming monsters themselves.”

Hux could feel himself shaking, from anxiety just as much as pain. Part of him wanted so badly to trust her and was on the verge of crying in relief that maybe someone was here to help him, maybe he wouldn’t die after all. But how could he trust anyone? People were dangerous, and he knew that all too well. She was saying all the right things to make someone vulnerable like him trust her, but that didn’t mean she was safe. “What do you want? I don’t have anything, so if you thought you could rob me, or kill me and loot my corpse, you’d be wasting your time!”

“I just said I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m here for medical supplies, so unless you’re going to try to claim possession of this entire building and everything in it, then I don’t want anything from _you_. But I could help you, if you’d let me. You certainly look like you could use it.” She leaned her stick- or staff or whatever it was- against the door frame and started rooting around in a bag that hung from her hip. “I doubt I can convince you to come closer to the doorway so I can get a better look at your injuries, so I guess I’ll bring a light to you.” Finally she pulled a small camping lantern out of her bag and switched it on. 

The light from the lantern was so bright that Hux cringed and had to close his eyes for a moment until they adjusted again, and even after that he couldn’t look directly at it. Being bathed in that cold, blueish artificial light suddenly made him feel so much more vulnerable and exposed, like a helpless person strapped to an operating table while some horror movie doctor prepared to perform unspeakable experiments on him. But when the girl drew closer, the illusion was shattered by the terrifyingly genuine look of concern on her face.

She stopped a few feet away and crouched down, holding the lantern up between them to get a better look at him. “Someone really did a job on you, didn’t they? You weren’t bitten, were you?”

“NO!” Sudden, intrusive thoughts of how he could have been eaten alive while he lay unconscious flooded him with panic, and he had to force himself to take a few slow breaths and calm down. _That’s not what happened. It could have, but it_ didn’t _. He’d gotten to safety before he passed out, he was fine. Well, no, he wasn’t fine, but--_ “No. Nothing’s bitten me aside from insects. Humans did this to me.”

“I see.” The girl set the lantern down and began rummaging in her bag again. “You weren’t with that group, were you? Phasma’s group?”

Hux had the urge to laugh at that, but he didn’t quite have the energy and everything hurt too damned much. “Phasma’s the one who did this to me. She’s _dead_ now,” he said sharply, and it wasn’t until the words were already out that he thought maybe he should have kept that information to himself. He had no idea where this girl’s allegiance lay. Maybe her questions were a test and he’d just revealed himself as an enemy.

The girl paused and looked at him, eyebrows raised in interest. “Oh. Well. I guess that’s for the best, then.” She turned her attention back to her bag and after a moment longer she drew out a canteen. “Anyway, are you going to let me help you, or are you the sort of stubborn ass who would rather die than accept help from a stranger?”

God, he was absolutely parched. He hadn’t noticed how thirsty he was until he saw the canteen, but now suddenly his throat was dry and it felt like his mouth was full of glue. “No, I-- I mean, Yes--” _Damn it._ No _he wasn’t so stubborn,_ yes _he would accept any help he could get. Why was it so hard to say the right words?_ “I don’t want to die.”

She gave him an assessing look, but apparently his statement was all the confirmation she needed because she was taking the cap off the canteen and moving closer. “Can you sit up? I don’t want you to choke and waste all my water.”

Hux tried to push himself upright with his left arm, but moving at all was excruciating. After struggling uselessly for a moment or two, the girl knelt next to him and helped haul him up to a sitting position with surprising strength and gentleness. Despite the obvious care she took not to hurt him, he still found himself biting his lip to keep silent. Once he was sitting up with his back propped against the wall, she picked up the canteen from where she’d set it aside and held it to his lips, helping him take a few careful swallows. 

The water was cool and clean and his eyes burned with unshed tears the moment it hit his tongue. Conflicting frustration, relief, humiliation, hope, and fear all churned inside him and it was too much for him to manage. He hated himself for being so weak and helpless in front of this random stranger, even though he was immeasurably grateful for her help. As much as he hated being so useless that he needed saving, he was glad someone had come along to save him from the stupid mess he’d gotten himself into. But through it all, he was terrified. Terrified for Ren. Terrified to even think of Ren, because if Ren hadn’t been so lucky, if he hadn’t survived, Hux wasn’t sure what he would do.

The girl put the cap back on her canteen and tucked it back into her bag, then she pressed the back of her hand to the unbruised side of his face. Her hands were slender and felt slightly cool, and the sense-memory of his mother checking his temperature this same way made his heart clench and his breath hitched before he caught himself and he bit his tongue to keep silent. If the girl noticed how close he was to blubbering like a child, she didn’t comment on it. “You feel a bit warm, but not feverish, so that’s good. This cut on your face looks deep, but it’s not bleeding much anymore. Your arm is injured, too, isn’t it?”

Hux took a slow breath to steady himself before he replied, but his voice still waivered a bit when he spoke. “Yes. I don’t know if it’s broken or dislocated, but I can hardly move it. It’s so-- God, it hurts. It hurts worse than anything else.”

“Okay,” the girl looked at his arm for a moment and chewed her lower lip in thought. “Okay, I need to examine it properly, but I don’t imagine you feel like twisting it around like you’d need to to take your shirt off. Do you mind if I cut off your sleeve?”

The thought of this girl asking permission for this seemed so ridiculous that Hux, once again, wanted to laugh, but he just shook his head slightly instead. “I don’t care. If you can make it stop hurting, do whatever the hell you need to do.”

The girl nodded, then produced a pocket knife and set about cutting the fabric away from his shoulder. With that done, she put the knife away and gently moved and prodded his arm and shoulder while he hissed in pain at every little touch. “I think it’s just dislocated,” she concluded, “So the good news is, if I can put it back the way it’s supposed to be, it’ll feel a lot better very quickly.”

Hux let out a breath of relief and let his head fall back against the wall that supported him, but that only resulted in aggravating the knot on the back of his head that he’d completely forgotten about. He supposed he might have a concussion, but there was nothing to be done about that. “Fantastic. Is there bad news?”

“It’s probably going to hurt.”

He made an inelegant snort that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Worse than it already does?”

The girl shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know from experience, I’ve never had a dislocated shoulder, but I’m guessing so, yes. Do you not want me to try it?”

“God, please. Just get it over with,” he groaned, though his insides were already quivering with anxiety in anticipation of the pain. He’d submit to anything at this point if it might bring relief, though. If she’d offered to shoot him to put him out of his misery, he’d probably consider it.

“Okay. Try to relax your shoulder as much as possible. And, um…” she looked around for a moment, then picked up his severed shirtsleeve and twisted it up tightly. “Maybe bite down on this? It might help keep you quiet, or-- I dunno why, but they always have people bite things in movies, so it seems important.”

Hux eyed the girl dubiously, suddenly questioning her skills. She sounded unsure and she did look awfully young, but what choice did he have at this point? He rolled his eyes and took the sleeve, biting down on it with his back teeth and hoping she was more capable than she sounded. 

He expected her to give his arm a quick jerk and twist to force the joint back in place, but instead she took hold, supporting the weight of his arm and bending his elbow, then slowly and gently turned his arm outward. He was glad he had something in his mouth at that moment because _God-fucking-hell it hurt, it hurt._ His teeth were clenched so tight he thought they might break, and then something in his shoulder gave a gut-wrenching sort of _clunk_ and the pain immediately eased. Not gone completely, but _so much less_ that he could weep from the relief. He spit out the scrap of fabric and took in a few shaking breaths while the girl tucked his arm up against his chest and folded his other arm over it to hold it in place.

“There. Just hold it like this, and I’ll be right back.” She flashed a quick, reassuring smile then got up and went out of the room.

He could hear her soft footsteps and the sounds of her shuffling things around on the shelves, but now that he wasn’t distracted with so much pain he started to get nervous. Who was this girl? Why the hell was she helping some random man she found lying on the floor? She said she didn’t want anything from him, but that couldn’t be true. Everyone wanted something.

A few short minutes later the girl was back, arms loaded with bandages, disinfectant and the like. She knelt down next to him and set all the things out on the floor. “We should take care of that cut first, make sure it doesn’t get infected. The best I can suggest for the bruising is a cool compress to reduce swelling, if you can get one. And anti-inflammatory painkillers. I’m sure there are some of those here.” While she talked, she opened a sterile pad and doused it with some sharp-smelling disinfectant, then she reached up and began delicately swabbing at the cut across the side of his face. It stung, but compared to the pain he’d just been in it was nothing.

Hux watched her for a moment while she focused on cleaning up his wound. Her strangely professional determination didn’t dispel his suspicion. “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me. You know _nothing_ about me. I could be dangerous.”

The girl’s gaze flickered and she met his eyes briefly, then carried on with her work. “I do know a little bit about you. I’ve encountered you before. You and your friend.”

“What?” Hux felt his spine go stiff in alarm. First Phasma’s group, now this girl and God only knows how many others she might have been hanging around with, who else? How many people had been creeping around watching them while they went on about their lives unawares? “When? How long have you been following us?”

“I _wasn’t_ following you. You’re the ones who found _my_ hiding place.” She switched out her sterile swab for a fresh one and carried on cleaning. Evidently the dried blood wasn’t coming off easily. “I was alone and I’d built a sort of treehouse to hide out in, up high where it would be safe at night. Your friend spotted it, and I think he may have seen me. He left some things for me. A little bit of water and food,” she met Hux’s eyes again and raised an eyebrow. “In spite of you nagging him not to. I could hear you, the woods were quiet.”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He remembered that day. Remembered how afraid he’d been that whoever was hiding out in that treehouse might mean them harm. “That doesn’t explain why you’re helping me. If I was standing in the way of his helping you.”

“Maybe I’m doing this because I owe _him_. That little bit of water he left probably saved my life, and the food helped, too. Also, maybe I’m doing this because I’m not an _arsehole_ who would leave someone to die when they obviously needed my help.”

Hux let out an exasperated huff. “I didn’t know you needed help. For all I knew you were getting on fine. For all I knew you were sitting up in that tree with a rifle waiting to pick us off.”

“Yes, I heard enough to get the gist of your arguments. I can’t really even fault you for them. But you need to know that there’s more out there other than monsters who are out for your blood. There are still good people, too.” Finally she finished swabbing his cheek, then opened a box of butterfly bandages and started sticking the cut closed with them like adhesive stitches. “So where is your friend?” Her voice was softer when she asked this time, as though she expected an unhappy answer.

Now Hux was forced to think about Ren in order to answer the question. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes burned. He was quiet for a minute or two while he tried to force the words past the lump, and his voice came out sounding choked and pathetic when he finally did. “I dunno.” He swallowed down a sob and took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment to hide his tears. “I don’t know where he is. We got separated, and I don’t know if he’s even still alive. He was hurt, and sick from infection, and that’s why we came here. We needed supplies and medicine.” He didn’t mean to give her so much information. He shouldn’t tell anyone he might be alone and vulnerable, that his only companion was missing, possibly dead, but the words just poured out of him and he couldn’t seem to stop them. “Things went bad, we got attacked, and I passed out. I don’t know what’s happened between then and when you found me. I don’t even know how long it’s been.”

When he opened his eyes again the girl was looking at him, solemn and a bit sad. “I’m sorry. I wish knew what to tell you. If it helps, I didn’t recognize your friend among any of the bodies outside. Some of them looked less than a few hours old, so maybe it hasn’t been too long since you lost consciousness.”

This seemed like false hope again, just like Ren’s optimistic stories about Millicent. He wanted to be angry at her and deny the possibility that Ren might be anything other than dead, otherwise he was just setting himself up to be devastated later on. He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t help but cling to the desperate hope that Ren had escaped and might still be alive. It eased his mind, and he hated it. He wanted to just accept that Ren was gone and get on with grieving and sorting out what the fuck he was supposed to do with the rest of his life, however brief it might be. Not that he was looking forward to being thrown into crushing despair, but he wanted to _get it over with_. Delaying it would only make it worse.

Hux was so busy stewing in his own thoughts that he jerked away in surprise when he felt something sticky and sweet-smelling pressed to his cheek. The girl had a small jar in her lap, and was holding up a strip of gauze soaked in something thick and viscous. “What the hell!?”

“It’s honey,” she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Completely aghast, Hux opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Honey has antibiotic properties, and it speeds healing. People have been using it medically in wound dressings for centuries.”

The explanation did nothing to improve Hux’s opinion on the matter and his lip curled in disgust. “I’d rather you didn’t slather sugar all over the open wound on my face to attract bugs to it.”

The girl rolled her eyes and screwed the lid back onto the jar, then put it back inside her bag. “It works, but suit yourself. Insects are going to be attracted to the open wound, anyway. If it gets infected and you die, I guess that’s your problem.” Before he could respond to that, she was already swabbing honey off the side of his face with more stinging disinfectant. “You should keep that arm in a sling for a while, and take it easy for at least a few weeks to give the joint time to heal. Otherwise it may not heal correctly, or it could pop out again.” With that, she pulled a drab-colored decorative scarf from among the supplies she’d gathered, tied the ends together, and looped it around his neck. 

Hux’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the ugly fabric, but he knew better than to complain. He cooperated as she tucked his arm into the loop of fabric and adjusted the position and length until she sat back, satisfied with her work. It was then that he noticed the yellow handles sticking out of a small pouch on her belt and his heart leapt. “Those pliers! They’re mine! Give them back!” The girl jumped back in shock at his sudden outburst and he realized how childish and obsessed he sounded. After having spent so long with only Ren for company, apparently he’d lost a good bit of his social skills. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, then tried again. “I’m sorry. Those are my pliers. Phasma took them from me, and I’d like them back, _please_... They’re important.”

The girl eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then settled back onto her knees and placed the pliers on the floor beside him. “If they’re that important to you. I already have pliers, anyway.”

Hux took the pliers in his free hand and only just managed to resist the urge to clutch them to his chest like hugging a teddy bear. They may be his last solid reminder of Ren, but there would be plenty of time to weep over them when he-- _if_ he determined that Ren was-- God, he still couldn’t bring himself to think about it.

After a few awkward moments passed the girl stood, taking the lantern with her, and started looking over the pharmaceuticals on the shelves. “You said your friend was sick from an infection, right? I can help you find medicine that will help. You said he was injured, so it’s an infected wound, right?”

Hux watched in confusion from his place on the floor, completely baffled at his luck. “Yes. It was a gunshot, but it only grazed him.” What were the chances that some surprisingly benevolent person with medical knowledge would stumble upon him here and offer their help exactly when he needed it most? The thought that his mother may be watching over him from the afterlife crept into his head and he tried to shove it away. He wasn’t about to subscribe to such superstitious nonsense just because he was stressed and desperate. “Were you a medical student or something? How did you learn all this?”

“Art student, actually,” the girl said, still scanning labels, “But I traveled with a doctor, who just happened to also study ancient and holistic medicines as a hobby. He taught me some things.” She plucked a few boxes off of the shelves, then crouched next to Hux and set the boxes out on the floor for him to see. “These are antibiotics. Three times a day for at least a week. Probably 10 days would be better. This is a different kind you can try if he doesn’t seem to be responding to the first one. This one is for pain and fever, but use it sparingly. No more than once every four to six hours, two to three times a day. And, you know, ibuprofen or acetaminophen as needed. As long as he doesn’t have liver or kidney failure.”

Hux listened diligently and nodded, still completely boggled at this entire situation. When the girl finished her explanation, she gathered up all the medicines and supplies she’d collected and piled them into a tote bag, then hesitated before fishing the small jar of honey out of her own bag and putting it in as well. “You can put honey on his wound dressings. It’ll help control the infection and keep it from getting any worse or picking up even more strains of bacteria. If you don’t want to use it that way then I guess you can just eat it. I don’t really care, I have plenty to spare.”

Just the knowledge that this might actually give him the resources he needed to save Ren was so overwhelming he wanted to cry again. There were still so many other variables, plus the fact he was trying so hard to deny that it might already be too late, but as long as he found Ren alive there would be a chance. “Thank you,” he said thickly, and he followed it up with a pathetic-sounding sniffle that made him cringe. All this near-crying left him with a runny nose that made him sound like he was crying, anyway, despite his efforts to hold it back.

The girl gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m just doing what any decent person would.”

Hux huffed out a short laugh and shook his head. Kind, generous, and modest as well. People like that were rare enough, anyway; he didn’t think any could have survived in an environment like this. It was clear she was exceptionally _smart_ and capable as well, so he didn’t understand how she could seem so naïve. Despite everything, he found himself hoping she never experienced anything that would change her outlook. Strange as it was to feel _protective_ of a stranger he’d only just met, he hoped she had strong companions traveling with her to watch her back. “The doctor you were traveling with. What happened to him?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the question. “What makes you think something happened to him?”

“Just… you said ‘traveled,’ past-tense,” he replied, her suspicion making him cautious, afraid that she might _know_ things about him just from his assumption. She might sense the things he’d done out of fear, to protect Ren and himself. That he wasn’t one of the _good people_ like her, and she might regret helping him.

“Maybe that’s because we aren’t traveling anymore,” she said evasively.

Her indirect answer made him think she may not be quite so naïve as he’d first thought. She could be trying to hide the fact that she was traveling alone now, but she could just mean that they’d found a place to settle. He tried not to be worried at the idea that it meant she and her doctor friend, or maybe an entire group of survivors, may have taken up residence somewhere nearby. Any group that included this girl couldn’t be entirely hostile, could they?

“ _REY?_ ”

They both jumped at the loud, masculine voice from somewhere out on the shop floor and Hux froze, his pulse going wild. The girl (Rey?) turned toward the door, opening her mouth to respond and Hux caught her elbow to get her attention, shaking his head frantically, terrified, pleading. This girl may mean him no harm, but he didn’t trust anyone else to share her convictions.

“Rey, are you in here?”

Hux shook his head again, silently mouthing _please, please, please_ , but Rey put her hand over his where he grasped her elbow and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m just finishing up! I’ll be right out.”

“You need any help?”

“It’s only a few little boxes, I think I can handle it! But tell Jess to mark this place on the map!”

“Okay! Meet us outside, then. We’re getting ready to head back!”

“Okay!” There were a few soft footsteps, then the sound of the door, then silence. Rey huffed a little sigh then turned back to Hux. “There, I didn’t give you away to my friends. Not that they would be a danger to you.”

“Thank you. _Thank you_ ,” Hux said, his voice barely above a whisper out of fear that he might still be heard. He clutched his left hand over his chest, willing his heart to calm.

“I take it by your reaction that you _don’t_ want to join up with us, then.” She sounded a bit disappointed, but didn’t seem surprised.

Hux shook his head yet again. “I can’t. I have to go back. I have to find my-” he almost said “my friend” but he couldn’t bring himself to call Ren that because that was nowhere near the right word to describe what Ren was to him. _Companion? Former employee? Lover? Antagonist? Boyfriend? Partner?_ The latter was probably closest since Ren had become his partner in multiple senses of the word, but it didn’t quite feel right. No word in his vocabulary felt like a suitable descriptor. “Ren.”

Rey stood and gathered a few boxes of various drugs, loading them all in a reusable shopping bag she produced from her pocket. “I’m sorry you won’t join us, but I understand. Maybe we’ll meet again later and you’ll have changed your mind.” Once she’d gathered everything she needed she collected the camp lantern and her staff, then poked her head out the doorway briefly, checking both directions. “I think everyone is gathered in front of the building, so you’ll want to exit out the back if you don’t want to be seen. I don’t know how far you have to go to get back to where you’re going, but I hope you’ll be safe.” She double checked once more that she wasn’t leaving anything she needed behind, then she stepped out of the room. “Goodbye. And I hope you find your Ren.”

Hux stared at the empty doorway for nearly a full minute after she left before he tried to move. He was well and truly on his own now, injured, unarmed, and with no food or water. Well, the honey could provide emergency calories in a pinch, but he’d rather not resort to that. Without his maps he couldn’t accurately estimate how many miles from home he was, but he knew they had driven for over an hour to get here. It would take him _days_ to get back home traveling on foot. Maybe he should have tried to join up with Rey’s group, at least temporarily. Maybe they would have helped him find Ren. _No, he couldn’t trust them. It wouldn’t have been safe._

With some difficulty he managed to climb to his feet and sling the bag of medical supplies over his left shoulder. He needed to find a weapon, and gather as much food and water as he could for his journey, but he was limited to only what he could carry. Anything too heavy would slow him down, and with one arm injured he wouldn’t be able to carry much, anyway. He should probably see if he could find some regular painkillers for himself, too, because while the pain in his shoulder was blessedly less intense than it had been, it still hurt. And so did his head, and his face, and several other parts of him to a lesser degree.

He ducked down a bit and exited the room, staying low so as not to be seen through the massive windows in the front. Fortunately the shelves along each aisle were fairly tall, so he didn’t have to crouch too low to keep his head from sticking up above them. There were quite a few people out in front of the pharmacy; he could hear their muffled voices and he caught glimpses of a few of them. A short girl with black hair stood with her back to the front window, chatting with a tall and sender older woman with mid-length hair that appeared to be faded pink at the ends with several inches of dark greyish roots grown out at the scalp. He was beginning to think this group was almost entirely women and Ren’s long-ago comment about a pack of dystopian warrior ladies floated up from the depths of his memory. But then he poked his head around another shelf and saw two men, one a hulking beast of a man with a long beard and shaggy hair toting a crossbow, and the other a young man who looked remarkably similar to one of his former employees from morning shift. It couldn’t be him, though. That would be far too much of a coincidence. It was strange enough already that he, Ren, and Phasma had all ended up in the same area so far away from the coffee shop where they’d all worked.

He made his way carefully through the aisles, picking up any small, lightweight packages of convenience foods he found. There wasn’t a lot to choose from, mostly packets of crisps and overly sweet candies. He was bound to feel sick if those ended up being the only things he ate for the next several days, but it was better than assured starvation if he ended up lost and stuck in the wilderness for weeks on end. He found a messenger-style bag with a strap long enough to wear diagonally. With the strap slung across his left shoulder and the bag resting against his right hip, it kept his left arm unobstructed without putting pressure on his injured right shoulder. He filled it with all the first aid supplies and snack foods he could fit inside, and shoved the only two bottles of water he could find in convenient little pockets on either side of the bag. He tied the handles of the bag with medicine for Ren around the strap so he wouldn’t have to carry it in his left hand. When all was said and done, it was heavy and uncomfortable to carry, the strap cutting into his left shoulder, but he would just have to manage.

The one aisle he hadn’t gone down was the one where Phasma had met her end. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to look in case something of her remained there. For all the death and corpses he’d seen, it was completely different when the body was someone he knew, no matter how much he might have hated them. Even if he’d been the one to cause their death, or maybe partly because of that in particular, it was disturbing in a way he wanted to avoid at all costs. He passed that aisle on his way toward the back door, though, and he found himself glancing down that way out of the corner of his eye, despite himself. There was a dark patch of something that was probably dried blood, and several motionless forms slumped over near the far end of the aisle, but something else caught his eye. Something glinted on the floor, about half-way down the aisle. His lost knife, sticking part-way out from under the bottom shelf. He locked his gaze on the shining blade, willing his eyes not to stray from it until he’d nudged it the rest of the way out from under the shelf with the toe of his shoe and crouched to pick it up. Then he glanced up briefly and had to squeeze his eyes tightly shut before he could see anything. 

He hated himself for being so afraid of what he might see. What did it matter if he saw Phasma’s dismembered corpse? He should be glad to see her dead after what she did, but he couldn’t bear to look. His breath stuttered and his eyes started to sting as he fought to keep from acknowledging that Phasma may not be who he was afraid to see. _The girl said she hadn’t seen him among the bodies, but would she even recognize him without seeing his face? She couldn’t recognize him from the clothes he’d been wearing or his shoes or the length of his limbs, the curve of his neck, the shape of his hands--_ A brittle, raspy sob broke through the tightness in his throat and he quickly turned away, stumbled back down the aisle the way he’d come and didn’t stop until he’d made it all the way down the hall to the exit at the back of the building.

He leaned against the wall by the door taking deep, unsteady breaths and trying to calm his racing heart. _This was never going to work. He couldn’t do this alone. He’d never make it back home on his own, it was too far. And Ren-- Oh, God, he could not have a meltdown right now, but he didn’t know how to stop it._

_Get a fucking grip!_

The memory of Ren’s voice came back to him, jarring him back to reality as effectively as a slap in the face. It didn’t _fix_ anything, his pulse still raced, his breaths coming heavy and sharp, and he was still terrified, but somehow he could at least _think_ through the panic as though the analytical piece of his brain was suddenly snapped back into place after having been dislodged. This wasn’t one of his nightmares, it was _reality,_ and as horrible as this reality was at least it was bound by certain rules. Monsters weren’t going to materialize out of thin air. Every corpse he encountered wouldn’t spontaneously become Ren’s lifeless body at his feet. The distance between here and home wasn’t endless. As long as he was careful and kept moving in the right direction he would reach it eventually. Maybe Ren had made it back. Maybe Ren was still alive. He wouldn’t know what state Ren was in until he arrived. He was Schrödinger’s Ren.

Hux choked on a bubble of laughter at his own ludicrous thoughts which were not fucking funny _at all_. He needed to focus, and he needed to _leave_. There was no time to waste. He put his hand on the door and closed his eyes, took a few more deep breaths in a vain attempt to steady himself, then pushed the door open.

The Falcon was gone. It was the first thing he noticed once his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. The car wasn’t where he’d parked it. It was nowhere in sight at all, but that was a good sign, wasn’t it? It had to mean Ren had taken it, because no other sane person would think of driving that ghastly pile of scrap metal on wheels.

It was quiet enough that he could hear voices from the group still chatting around the front of the building and it made the skin tingle on the back of his neck. They were far too close for comfort, and if he didn’t get far away from here as quickly as possible someone was bound to find him. No matter how kind Rey had been, he still didn’t trust the rest of her group. They may seem nice, but niceness could be a façade. There had been a time when he’d thought Phasma was nice, but in hindsight he hated himself for failing to see through her act. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

There was another building a short distance away. If he could make it that far without being seen, he was pretty sure he could make it the rest of the way out of this little suburb undetected. That was, of course, assuming this group wasn’t much larger than he realized and scattered all throughout the area. That person who called to Rey said they were leaving soon, though, so he could only assume all of them were gathering in front of the pharmacy, packing up everything they’d collected in preparation to leave. 

Crouching as low as he could manage with the heavy, awkward bag hanging from his shoulder, Hux crept toward the cover of the next building. He was only about a third of the way across when a pair of young women came into view, one with her back to him, and the other was Rey. She glanced past the shoulder of her companion straight at Hux and their eyes locked. Hux’s chest went so tight he thought his heart stopped. For a fleeting moment of panic he was certain Rey would shout out to her friends, direct their attention to him and he’d be killed on the spot. She put a hand on her companion’s shoulder-- _This is it. Fuck, it’s all over_ \-- and gave a short nod toward the building, then the two of them walked off around the corner, out of sight.

With the way now clear, Hux moved as quickly as he could behind the cover of the next building. That girl had saved him again. He supposed one day he might have to repay her for all she’d done, but for now his only goal was to flee this place. He could worry about owing favors another time, if he survived the journey home.  
*

*  
Walking on the open road was terrifying, but so was walking through the uneven terrain and wild foliage along the side of the road. He felt far too vulnerable wandering alone, injured and defenseless, without even his jacket to protect him. It was too hot for a jacket, but ever since Ren’s jacket had been the only thing that saved him from having his arm gnawed off he always wore his, no matter the weather. Now he was exposed; no margin for error. One slip-up could end him.

He had to stick to the roads because without them he’d be hopelessly lost. He saw the map in his mind, he knew where he was and what an astoundingly long way he had to go, but he couldn’t let himself think about the full distance. It seemed impossible that he could ever walk so far, so he tried to focus on shorter distances. He just needed to make it to the next turn off for now. Once he made it that far, he could worry about getting to the next turn, the next landmark, and then the next, until he got home. 

After mentally debating the pros and cons for the first half mile or so, he opted to walk on the road itself. It increased his risk of being seen by anyone or anything that may want to harm him, but the trade off was that if he _did_ encounter more zombies he would see them coming, and wouldn’t be surprised by zombies that might be trapped in the mud or untamed plants off the road. Also, the even surface of the road was so much easier and faster to walk on, particularly in his injured, exhausted state. He only hoped if any other survivors came travelling down the road that he’d hear them in time to hide before they saw him. Of course, if he encountered another massive horde of zombies like they had that day so many weeks ago, he was absolutely done for. He added that to the list of things he was trying very hard not to think about.

Abandoned vehicles were scattered sporadically along the road. Every time Hux passed one, he was torn between trying to hotwire it and fear that he would only be wasting time if it was out of fuel or beyond repair. The sun was veering close to the treetops now, though, and it wouldn’t be safe travelling at night. He needed to stop to rest, anyway, so he resigned to stop at the next car he passed. If he couldn’t get it started, then at least maybe it would give him shelter for the night.

He walked for hours, the sky growing progressively darker with every step. Just when he was beginning to think he’d either need to keep walking through the night or try to hide somewhere in the bushes until morning a car came into view around a bend in the road. No, not just one, three. Three cars, three chances. Maybe one of them would still run if he could get it started. With a small spark of hope rejuvenated in his chest, he hurried on weary legs toward the collection of vehicles.

The first car he tried was locked, which seemed completely stupid to Hux that anyone would _lock_ a car when they were abandoning it, but _whatever_! If he had no success with the other two, he could come back to the first one and try to break in. The second one he spent God-only-knew how long working with his knife and his pliers to crack into the steering column and get the correct wires stripped and connected only for _absolutely nothing_ to happen. He popped open the hood to see if there was any obvious problem he could fix only to find that there was _no fucking battery_ in the car. He wanted to scream and kick something but he kept control, clenched his fist until his nails dug into his palm, bit his lip, _breathed_ until he could form coherent thoughts again. It was fine. He could get a battery out of one of the other cars. It would be difficult working with only one arm, but not impossible.

He went to the third car and found it unlocked as well. With the key still in the ignition. Of course it couldn’t be that easy, though. Surely the engine had been run dry of oil or the radiator had exploded or something like that, but he had to at least try, so he dropped into the driver’s seat and turned the key.

The engine purred to life with hardly a stutter and Hux wanted to scream again, but instead the sound that came out of him turned into a stream of hysterical laughter. _Of course. Of-fucking-course._ All that time wasted fussing with the other car when this one sat waiting, apparently in full working order. He was so furious with himself and elated at the same time that he thought his head might explode.

Once his laughter finally tapered off, he shut the car off as he gasped to catch his breath. It was nearly pitch black out and _God_ he was tired. It didn’t seem very safe to just sleep in the front of the car, so he resigned to sleep in the trunk, where he’d be safely locked away out of sight, but still able to get out with use of the safety latch. In the morning, he could steal fuel from the other two cars and hope it was enough to get him home.

He popped open the trunk, which was blessedly empty apart from a tire iron and an empty bottle of coolant, climbed inside and shut the lid. There was room enough to settle in on his left side, putting as little strain as possible as his right shoulder. It was nowhere near comfortable, he was far too tall to fit comfortably in the trunk of any car, but it was the best and safest place he could manage under the circumstances. Discomfort was no match for exhaustion, and he drifted off thinking how there was no way he could ever fall sleep like this.  
*

*  
It was so quiet. Soul-crushing, heartbreaking quiet, all around him. Not _silence_ , but the sound of desolation. He could hear wind, insects, the occasional bird, but it all just sounded like emptiness to him. Hopelessness. Kylo woke some time after sunrise, but he couldn’t bear to get up so he dozed on and off for an indeterminate amount of time. He checked his watch, but it had stopped working and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. Well, he knew _when_ , because the hands were frozen at 7:26, but he didn’t know if that was AM or PM, or even what day. Not that it mattered. He was surprised and a little bit disappointed that he hadn’t died in his sleep.

He probably would have been satisfied to lay in the pile of filthy laundry until he finally _did_ die if it weren’t for Millicent. She’d been curled up asleep next to his head when he woke, making delicate little snoring sounds. Hux would have thought that was adorable. As soon as he moved she lifted her head and made a sleepy little trill, then started purring. Kylo didn’t have the energy to cry anymore, but her blissful ignorance still brought tears to his eyes. She was content to lay there and doze with him for a while, but eventually she decided she was hungry and proceeded to nudge Kylo with her head and knead at him with her claws until he relented and got up.

Sitting up made his head spin, so he sat still for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to subside only to have it come back full-force as soon as he managed to climb to his feet. He swayed, but caught hold of a support post to keep from falling and held tight to it, closing his eyes until it passed. When he opened them again Millicent was already circling her food bowl, mewing pathetically, and it made his heart ache. She needed someone to take care of her. How long would she last on her own once he was gone?

Moving around made him nauseated and he wanted nothing more than to lie down again, but he knew damned well the cat would never leave him in peace until she was fed, so he picked another easy-to-open can of catfood and brought it to her, kneeling down to plop the contents into her bowl. There was a dull spark of annoyance in the back of his skull when she nudged half of the food out onto the floor with her first enthusiastic bite, but it faded quickly. She would probably eat it off the floor, anyway, and it wasn’t like he planned to clean up the mess if she didn’t.

Now that he was up, he supposed he should do something about his face. The entire right side of his head felt swollen and sore, and his cheek and neck were crusty with dried blood. Most of the first aid supplies were up on the loft, though, and he still wasn’t sure he could make it safely up the ladder. In all the shelves loaded with supplies they’d collected over time, surely there was something he could use. He grabbed the nearest shelf to leverage himself back up onto his feet and rummaged through the cleaning and hygiene items. There was a bottle of Tylenol, which was basically useless, but he also found a small box of alcohol wipes. It would do.

It was a slow and agonizing process, but eventually he collected the items he needed to clean up just a little bit. He sat at the work table with the little mirror they used for shaving and looked at himself for the first time in days. He looked like a corpse already. A sickly pale cast to his skin which was covered in a film of sweat and grime, blood and dirt plastered all over one side of his face, filthy hair, lifeless eyes. He wasn’t sure why he was even bothering to try to clean himself up. Maybe he was just trying to maintain the illusion that he still had some tiny bit of control over his life and what was happening to him. He was dying and he couldn’t stop it, but he still had some choices left to him.

He could still choose how and when it happened.  
*

*  
It was more difficult than Hux expected to drive with only one hand on the wheel. Rather, not _difficult_ exactly, but it felt _unsafe_ , especially at the irresponsible speeds he was driving, but he was in a bit of a rush. He wasn’t sure how late he’d slept exactly, but the sun was already high in the sky by the time he emerged from his dark hiding place in the trunk of the car. He hadn’t even bothered with breakfast, just swallowed a couple of ibuprofen tablets with half a bottle of water and got to work siphoning any bit of fuel left in the other two cars using the empty coolant bottle and a piece of tubing scavenged from the car lacking a battery.

There wasn’t much fuel left to steal, and he made himself a bit sick and dizzy with gasoline fumes, but he gathered enough to deem it worth the effort. He now had nearly a quarter-tank full, and if that wasn’t enough to get him home at least it would get him a long way down the road. He had to move quickly, because if the car ran out of fuel he did _not_ want to end up walking the last of his journey in the dark.

He’d never driven so fast in his life. It was sort of terrifying, but he was too concerned with covering as much distance as quickly as possible to pay much attention to his fear. If nothing went wrong, he may be able to get home well before the sun went down.

The closer he got to home, the more familiar the roads became. When he first started out he’d been nervous. Even though he was 90% sure he was going the right way he wished he had his maps, if only for reassurance, but he didn’t need to be reassured now. He knew where he was. He’d be home in less than an hour. Less than twenty minutes, maybe, if he kept this speed.

Just when he was starting to feel hopeful, the car’s engine suddenly cut out. _No, no no no no!! FUCK!_ He coasted for a long while before the car finally slowed. He didn’t bother pulling off the road, wanting to ride out every last bit of momentum, and then when the car came to a complete stop he leaned his head against the steering wheel and willed himself not to cry. There was no time for crying, or panic, or any other sort of overwhelming emotional outburst. More now than ever he needed to keep his shit together and keep moving.

He allowed a few precious seconds to breathe and collect himself, take another ibuprofen tablet, drink a few more sips of water. Then he collected his things from where he’d tossed them in the passenger’s seat beside him, got out of the car, and started walking again. He could still make it, but maybe not before the sun set.  
*

*  
He was so, so tired. Even though he’d hardly done anything all day except sleep, wash his face, and feed the cat, he was absolutely exhausted. Weariness that was beyond bone-deep, it seemed to reach into the depths of his spirit. It felt like his heart itself was just tired of beating, but for some unknown reason it hadn’t stopped yet. It was only a matter of time.  
His entire body ached, and had been aching for days and days. His only relief was the moments of blissful unconsciousness, but even those were fraught with disturbing fever dreams. There were fleeting moments where he thought he could carry on like this for several days, but the thought of trying to hold out any longer was agonizing. Maybe his body could carry on functioning a while longer, but why should he put up with the pain any longer? He’d suffered for as long as he could bear to.

The first step once he’d made his decision was to drag a large bag of cat food out and lay it on the floor, slit it it open down the middle with a knife so the contents spilled out like cutting open the belly of one of Hux’s kills. It should be enough to keep Millicent fed for weeks, provided rats didn’t come in and eat it first. If they did, then maybe she could kill some rats instead. As soon as the bag was open she came bounding over, tail perked up straight in excitement. Kylo stroked her back a few times when she started eating, heart sinking as he said a silent goodbye, then he stood and went outside. The food should keep her occupied and out of the way for a while. That way she wouldn’t have to see. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her standing nearby watching what he was about to do. She wouldn’t understand, of course, but for some reason that made it even worse.

Even though he could feel how warm the sunlight was, he still felt cold. He was unsteady on his feet now, the way he’d only pretended to be when Phasma’s men dragged him from the car and marched him across the street. The fever was making him dizzy, or maybe it was partly from hunger or dehydration since he hadn’t bothered to eat or drink. He guessed he might also have a concussion from being kicked in the head, but it didn’t matter much at this point.

Once he got his father’s old pistol out of the equipment shed, he made his way toward where the shower was. It was a ridiculous thought, one Hux probably would have scoffed at, but it was a significant place. It was where Hux had first looked at him like he held the sun in his hands and hung the moon in the sky each night. Just before he kissed Hux for the first time. 

He turned over one of the buckets scattered around the area and lowered himself onto it, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his head hang down as he stared at the gun in his hands. It felt impossibly heavy resting in his palm. Even heavier than the first time he’d held it when he was still a kid and Han had taken him to the shooting range to teach him how to shoot. He wondered how angry his father would be at him for using _his_ gun to do this. If his mother would be angry and tell him he was being a coward, or if she would understand and try to comfort him if she were here. His vision blurred, and when he blinked it away two drops fell on his wrist. Funny. He thought he’d run out of tears.

At least it was a nice day. Soft wind rustled the trees and rattled the gate, sharp metallic sounds cutting through the air. The sun was beginning to set when he looked up again, casting a pink and orange glow over everything. The faintest smile touched his lips when he remembered how Hux’s hair had looked like fire in the sunset. He’d never told him that. He’d never told Hux a lot of things. If there was some sort of afterlife awaiting him, maybe he’d find Hux there and tell him everything. And maybe Hux would tell him his first name. It didn’t feel like such a big deal before, but now it bothered him that he’d been through hell and life and death with a man who’s name he didn’t even know.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

Great, now he was hallucinating, too. The voice was so crisp and clear that it actually startled him at first. But it was okay. At least his hallucination could keep him company for these last few moments. It would almost be like having Hux with him, in the end. “I’m glad you’re here. Even if you’re not really here.” He looked in the direction the voice had come from to see if his mind had created a visual representation to go along with it, and sure enough, there he was. 

The figment of Hux that his mind had created didn’t look at all how he expected he would. He thought he'd picture Hux how he used to be: fussy and prim without a hair out of place, the way he always looked when they were at work. Or maybe like he had been these last few weeks, looking soft and tousled as he did in the morning, or with dirt on his clothes and a smudge of grease on his cheek after a long day. Instead, his hallucination sported a black eye and bruises on one side of his face, a gash on his cheek, a missing shirt sleeve, generally tattered and gore-spattered clothes, and one arm tucked up against his chest in a makeshift sling. This was a version of Hux he'd never seen, and he wasn't sure why his imagination had cobbled it together.

Unless it wasn't a hallucination.

“You’re not real,” he insisted, too afraid to hope. Hux was dead, he couldn’t let a hallucination fool him.

“The hell I’m not!”

The Hux in front of him stared at him, looking both terrified and _furious_ in a way only Hux could. He was sure he could imagine Hux well enough to conjure such a realistic mirage, but why _this_ mirage? Why was he so battered and broken, shaking with emotion? Something wasn’t right. “You’re _not_ ,” he said again, even as he let the gun fall from his hands. He tipped over the bucket he sat on and stumbled to his feet, took one unsteady step and tripped.

A very solid, very real form caught him. Not steady enough to keep him upright, but enough to soften his fall and support him with a hand under his arm, a shoulder under his chin, as they both sank to their knees in the dew dampened grass. A broken sob spilled out of him and he clung to the person in front of him who could only be Hux but _how could this be real?_ He’d seen him die. He’d seen-- There was _someone_ and _Hux’s jacket_ and how could it not have been Hux?? He held tight and wept into the crook of Hux’s neck while Hux’s supporting hand slid upward and fisted in his hair tight enough to pull at his scalp, but he didn’t care. Hux could rip all his hair out if he wanted to, it didn’t matter. He was so glad not to be facing death all alone. But now Hux would have to sit by and _watch him die_ and that was immeasurably horrible in its own way. Also, wasn’t Hux _hurt?_ He was surely hurting him worse by clinging so tight. “I’m sorry, Hux, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry--” 

He tried to loosen his grip and let go, but Hux just held tighter, disregarding both their injuries. “Shut up. Just shut up, you _insufferable ass._ You would do this to me? How _dare_ you, how _fucking dare!_ ”

 _How dare he? What_ choice _did he have?_ After Hux made him think he was dead, left him to mourn and suffer until he died alone. That Hux would do that to him and then have the _audacity_ to be angry at him! His breath hitched and he grit his teeth against all the conflicting emotion spilling over inside him and chose one at random to focus on. “I hate you.”

“I know.” Hux’s voice was soft and ragged with passion that Kylo couldn’t parse, but it made him feel warm somehow, even though he’d been shivering with fever all day. “Let’s go inside. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything.”

Kylo wanted to laugh at the notion that Hux seemed to think he could just _fix_ him and all their problems like a broken machine, but if he wanted to try then Kylo wouldn’t stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [kyluxtrashcompactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxtrashcompactor/pseuds/kyluxtrashcompactor) for beta reading and giving me extra encouragement this chapter. ♥♥♥


	16. Epilogue

Hunting with his bow still wasn’t really an option yet. His shoulder felt better and he’d stopped wearing the sling after a few days, but there was still a lingering ache that made him wary. The warning to take it easy or risk dislocating it again was still sharp in his mind. He wasn’t sure for how long, exactly, he was supposed to “take it easy,” but it had only been about a week and a half so far. He thought he’d give it a month, at least, before he started testing it. Maybe two months before he tried to use the bow again. In the meantime, he’d developed a trapping mechanism that seemed to function pretty well. It was still less reliable than hunting, but it was something. He went out to check the traps two or three times a day. Today was a lucky one because he’d finally caught a particularly fat rabbit, the first thing he’d successfully trapped and retrieved. After so many days of veggies and dried meat from their dwindling supply, fresh meat would be nice.

He closed the gate behind him, snapping the lock back in place with a sense of relief to be home and safe again with anything that meant them harm locked outside. He tried to shake off the lingering prickles of nervousness left over after his little stroll outside the fence. He’d found signs of a temporary camp out in the woods while he was out. Nothing much, just some partially buried ash from a long-dead fire, wood shavings that looked like they’d been carved off with a knife, and a broken glass jar that was swarmed with ants. 

The discovery put him in a state of panic until he noticed something about the jar: a pale golden residue on the glass that had attracted the ants. He picked it up and took a careful sniff to confirm his suspicion. It was a rich, sickly sweet floral scent. _Honey._ Whoever had stayed here could have been that girl Rey herself or one of her affiliates, or maybe someone else who had benefited from her kindness. He still didn’t like the idea of anyone being so close to their home, but at least he had reason to hope that they may not be immediately hostile.

There had been another worrying encounter recently. While walking during the last leg of his journey home, he’d heard vehicles on the road behind him. He was pretty sure he managed to get off the road and hide before anyone might have seen him, but it was far too close for comfort. He hadn’t told Ren about it. When he finally arrived home, it became the farthest thing from his mind; there were too many other immediate concerns at the time.

He opened the door to the shed and found Ren just where he’d left him: on the mattress Hux had brought down from the loft for him to use during those frightening days when he’d been too sick and weak to risk climbing the ladder. Instead of sleeping, he’d propped himself up into a sitting position with a stack of pillows and blankets, sketchbook in-hand, one leg stretched out straight in front of him and the other one bent with Millicent curled up in the crook of his knee. 

It still warmed his heart all over again every time he came home and found them both together, safe and alive, after being so sure he’d lost them both. Millicent had been sleeping in the laundry when he’d brought Ren inside the day he returned. He’d been so preoccupied with Ren’s comfort and medical treatment that it was a while before he even noticed her. It wasn’t until Ren, high on the painkillers Hux had given him and still burning with fever, had caught his wrist to get his attention and pointed adamantly at the pile of dirty laundry, insisting there was a surprise for him there. Hux assumed at first that Ren was either brain damaged or reacting badly to the medication, but eventually he gave in and went to look for himself, if only so Ren might calm down and go to sleep. When he found Millicent there, curled up and napping sweetly, he thought his heart would burst with how happy he was to see her.

The first few days after his return had been harrowing to say the least. Ren spent a lot of that time either unconscious or staring listlessly at nothing in particular while Hux fussed over him, checking or changing his wound dressings, keeping him medicated and hydrated, pressing a wet rag to his face and neck in a frantic effort to cool him down. Once the fever finally broke it wasn’t long before Ren started to grow restless, but Hux still insisted he _stay in bed_ until he was healed. It wasn’t until Hux brought in a rope and threatened to tie him down that Ren grudgingly agreed. 

While confined to bed, Ren had finally started making use of the art supplies Hux gave him. He’d snuck up to the loft to retrieve them while Hux was out tending the plants, and Hux had been so pleased to see him finally putting the sketchbook to use that he didn’t even nag him about having gotten out of bed. 

Ren sketched _a lot._ He’d filled one sketchbook already, both front and back of every page, and was a quarter of the way through a second book. It seemed like a floodgate had been opened, and Ren was pouring months of pent-up energy and emotion out onto the pages. Hux saw a few of the drawings, Ren wasn’t hiding them from him but he didn’t specifically show them to him, either. Several of them were of terrifying things that Hux suspected may have been plaguing Ren’s nightmares all this time, while others were regular, everyday things; faces, still-life, animals, Millicent. Once Hux caught a glimpse of what he thought might be his own face taking shape on the page under Ren’s pencil, but this one Ren _did_ hide from him when he caught Hux looking.

He smiled at the peaceful image the two of them made together now, Ren scribbling away in his book while Millicent dozed gently. “The two of you seem to have grown awfully close.”

Ren made a sardonic little huffing sound and didn’t even glance up from his sketchbook. “She’s just waiting for me to die so she can eat me.”

Hux rolled his eyes and went to put his rabbit down on the table where Ren usually butchered things. “She’ll have a long wait, I’m afraid. But what makes you think any self-respecting cat would eat you? Her tastes are far too refined to eat something so revolting.”

“She licks her own ass on a daily basis.”

“I stand by my statement.”

Ren scoffed, scratched a couple of particularly hard lines onto his page and carried on scribbling, but said nothing. Hux considered the argument won.

He turned his attention back to the rabbit on the table and picked up a knife. He’d seen Ren do this countless times by now so he thought surely he could handle it, but when he lay the rabbit out on its back and brought the knife toward its belly his hands shook. _Come on, this isn’t difficult. It’s dead already, it can’t feel anything. Just cut it!_

Warm, broad hands settling on his waist startled him out of his thoughts, and he slammed the knife down on the counter in frustration. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t even heard Ren get up.

“You should let me do that,” Ren murmured. He tucked the tip of his nose into a space just behind Hux’s ear where it seemed to fit perfectly and pressed his soft lips against the hairline at the back of Hux’s neck, letting them rest there in a gesture that wasn’t quite a kiss. Ren had been more _clingy_ lately, for lack of a better word. And Hux didn’t find it as bothersome as he expected he would.

Hux wanted to be angry, but instead he found himself leaning back against Ren’s chest and sighing in defeat. “You’re supposed to be in bed. And I’m going to have to learn to do this eventually.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t have to be today.” It was a benign statement on the surface, but it felt like an affirmation. Ren was still here today, to do this for him. He didn’t have to learn to do it all himself. He wasn’t alone. “I’m getting better. I need to start doing my share around here again. You can’t keep me in bed forever.”

“Ren…” He wishes he could keep Ren locked up safely forever. Him and Millicent both, where nothing could harm them. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them, though. They didn’t deserve to be imprisoned just because he couldn’t manage his own fucking anxiety. “Fine, you do it, then,” he snapped, harsher than he intended. Ren let go and allowed him to step out of the way.

While Ren silently went to work dressing and skinning the rabbit, Hux busied himself poking around at the assortment of vegetables he’d harvested the day before, picking out something to go with the rabbit. He really should go outside and start a cooking fire, but it was a hot day and he didn’t relish the idea of being anywhere near the heat of an open flame at the moment.

Thoughts of fire suddenly reminded him of the half-buried ash pit he’d found in the woods. _Were there people out there now, somewhere close by? If he started a fire, would someone see the smoke?_

“Hux?”

Hux glanced up in response to the concern in Ren’s voice and realized he’d probably been staring at the onion in his hand for a solid couple of minutes. He quickly set it down on the table and considered whether he should tell Ren what he’d found. There was no point in telling Ren something that might upset him unnecessarily, but then they might want to do something to prepare themselves for the eventuality where their home was finally discovered by outsiders. “What happens the next time we encounter other survivors?”

Ren paused in his work and looked over at him, brows drawn together in confusion and concern. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re bound to keep running into others, and-”

“No, I know that. I’m not stupid,” Ren interrupted.

Hux’s lip curled slightly in a reflexive sneer at the interruption, then he turned his back to Ren and started gathering kindling to start a fire. “It’s foolish to think we can remain isolated indefinitely. We can’t just kill everyone we meet. It’s not kill or be killed. Not-... not always.”

“Okay…”

Hux had told Ren about the girl who helped him, and that she was with a group. He knew people could still be dangerous, and he still thought that dangerous people made up the majority of those who remained, but now he knew there were still a few kind people out there, too. That complicated things quite a lot. He finished gathering kindling and stood, turning to face Ren again with an armload of dried sticks. “I’m asking what you think we should do. How do we treat other survivors when we come across them?”

“Well, I seem to recall you saying you wanted to rule this dystopian wasteland, so why are you asking me? Why don’t _you_ tell _me_ what you think we should do,” Ren said. “If people show up knocking at our gate, how do you suggest we handle it?”

That was essentially Hux’s nightmare scenario. Just finding evidence of people within a mile of their home set him in a panic, so how the hell would he handle someone showing up _at their door?_ But that would all depend, wouldn’t it? What if he looked out through the gate and saw Rey? Or that woman with the pink hair? Or the young man who looked like that morning-shift barista? “I-I don’t know,” he stammered. He could feel himself shaking inside just pondering this as a hypothetical scenario, but he already knew his answer. There were potential allies out there waiting for them. “Maybe… we let them in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this in October 2016. Just shy of 2 years later, it's finally finished.
> 
> This started out as a one-shot where I planned to kill them both off at the end, but when I reached 20k words and realized I was nowhere near half-way finished and had become far too emotionally invested to kill these boys off, I realized I needed to completely readjust my plans for this story and admit to myself that I was actually writing a longfic. Since I usually only write one-shots, and have never written anything longer than 12k words ever in my life, this has been a hell of a ride. Thank you all for going through this journey with me. ♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me @marzarelo on the twits and the tumbls.


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